Charmed Life
by CaptainCrimson
Summary: People always say, knock yourself out! When you want to do something. But I'm telling you now, that literally knocking yourself out, is not smart. I got landed with a madman, a pirate no less and a job I didn't want. And he wants things I can't give. DISCONTINUED! Please see my fic the Mirrors Edge if you're still interested in Jack and Melody!
1. What's Lucky and What's Fair

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN, CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW ETC. THEY BELONG TO DISNEY AND BUENEVISTA.**

**_This fic has been discontinued. Its been nine years since I started writing it and much of it has changed. If you want to read Jack and Melody's story, please see Mirrors Edge, on this account. I just started it! It won't be abandoned! Thank you for your interest! _**

**_Please Review, I'd really appreciate it! _**

**Chapter One**

_**What's Lucky and What's Fair**_

"You've got to be kidding me." I stare disgusted at the room before my eyes. The tavern closed only ten minutes ago. Well, I suppose you could more accurately put it that the tavern 'closed' twenty-five minutes ago and we just got all the men out ten minutes ago.

Kylie looks at my sideways, her dark hair curtaining her shadow-grey eyes. "Nope. Not kiddin'"

I look towards the ceiling, though my head stays in the same spot. The entire look, I'm sure, clearly reads, "Dear-heaven-no-I-don't-want-to." or just plain annoyed. And why shouldn't I be annoyed. I mean, I'm not supposed to help clean up_ this _part of the tavern. I'm supposed to keep the kitchen in order. And I've done that already. I should be going home. What the hell is this? I'm tired and-

"Melody, please, we need yer 'elp." Charlotte whines at me. I swear, that girl, even through her profession, has never grown up. She sounds like a six year old. "We canno' do this all tenigh'! Tis a mess. And Luther will push us all."

_That's what I'm afraid of! _Luther is our boss. I'm the lucky one here. All eight of these girls, Kylie, Charlotte, Tiff, Jezzy, Rachelle, Mariana, Kate, and Isabelle, are whores. I'm number nine. Melody. The cook. And the finest one around if I do say so myself. I smirk to myself, but quickly wipe it away, knowing the look will only receive five million stupid questions that I'd really rather not answer. Especially when its over something so ridiculous as my gloating. I have no right to really. Gloat I mean. I'm lucky. Sometimes luck doesn't last forever.

Who am I kidding? Sometimes. Luck never lasts forever.

Whatever.

They're all pouting. I roll my eyes again. "Look," I say, "I've been up as long as you working hard as well. And this isn't my job!" Jezzy glares at me from her dark, black eyes. I try to look away, they've always bothered me. They're deep set and dark. In more ways than one. She's like a black shadow, hiding secrets and death under her blatant face. Underneath, is a hell that no one wants to touch. '_Beware the silent types dear', _my mother used to say. '_And the really obnoxious ones.'_

She was right. Obnoxious people are always bad news around here. So are the silent ones. The obnoxious ones are the ones that wont stop grabbing and screaming and starting fights. The silent ones, they are usually the cause of a fight or the ones that sneak to the back of the pub and try to kidnap a girl. My thoughts are wandering again.

"Mel!" Tiff shrieks, as she starts to push tables back to the upright position. "If ye 'elp us, it won't take nearly as long!"

I place an annoyed hand on my hip and lean my weight to one foot. "One more person is not going to make that much difference." My tone is bordering anger now. "I don't get paid for this and you people do."

Richella, the older of all of us claps her hands sharply. "Girls! Mel is–"

I was quite curious as to what she was going to say, but it is cut off by Luther coming through the back door, sopping wet from the rain. He stares at the small gathered crowed of females. "What is going on?!" He nearly shouts, though it sounds more annoyed than angry. My thoughts exactly.

Kate chimes in. It's a rare thing. She only talks when she's gotta get herself out of trouble. "We we're tryin' te make clean'n arrange-men's."

"What are you still doin' here?" Luther looks at me.

"They wanted me to help," I say flatly tucking a lock of my long blond hair behind one ear. As quick as I do that I untuck it and hang my hand by my side.

Luther growls slightly. "I've told you all! No! Don't bugger her into it! Not her job. I pay you fer yer work and I'll pay her for hers! Now get on with it! And you!" He points at me in a 'threatening' manner. He'd never hurt a fly. "Get out of here! Be back six tomorrow even'nin!"

I nod in relief and turn abruptly and pull my cloak around my shoulders. It's not that I'm mean. Well, they might see me as such, but I don't. Pushing me to do something that I won't get paid for and they will, I just don't see it as fair. Not that life is always fair. But hey, if I can get it as close to fair as I can get it, I'm good.

I leave the tavern and wander down the slightly less than normally crowded streets of Tortuga. I suppose I can thank the rain for the lack of people. Most of them could use mental help. I miss Dover England. It's where I come from. I came to Tortuga two years ago at the age of twenty-three. My mother still lives there, in England I mean. I exchange letters with her, but its not the same. Walking in the rain I'm reminded of England. Especially tonight. Its colder than normal for the Caribbean. The wind is light, but chilled, pulling playfully at my cloak and the loose strands of hair that have escaped from underneath the hood.

I shiver. I'm not used to the chill anymore. I've been spoiled by the Caribbean heat.

I sigh heavily. I stop walking when I can see the ocean through the alley of two buildings. The dock looks nearly empty. I scan what I can see and note the two large ships in the harbor. The smaller is beautifully decorated with cherry red wood and folded sails that look grey in the very early morning light. I'd say its around six-thirty in the morning.

I can't help my curiosity and I turn toward the dock, wandering down the alley. I come out on the other side and admire the ship. The figure head is a mermaid, swelling out of well-carved waves. She's bare from the hips up.

I roll my shoulder back till it pops, all the while, my mind playing over the fact that men are sick minded idiots. My eyes wander to the other, darker ship. I scowl as my eyes finally focus on it. I hadn't payed it much heed as I'd been looking at the brighter colored ship. The black paint is cracked and fading to a grey. Bits of brown and white wood are exposed in great amounts. The sails are black. The ship looks worn and older. In a way however, it is intriguing to look at. I could almost picture it before the paint began to fade and fall apart. All black. The ship would have been completely black. Stealth? I wonder. Just looking at it tells me there is a story to this ship. I move my pale silver eyes to the figure head and smile sadly at the angel there. She looks sad, her arm outstretched with a bird flying from her fingers. It's almost like she's attached to the ship, her wings won't carry her anywhere but where she leads the ship, and she wants the bird to leave for her. But he can't either. The rain somehow doesn't help her sadness. It begins to dig it's way into my heart. I feel it go heavy. I suddenly miss my mother so much it hurts. Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back.

I take a deep breath and roll my eyes at myself. _You're ridiculous Mel. It's just a ship! And you're fine without yer mum! She's fine! You're fine._

I turn away from the ship and walk back toward the alley. Though, before I turn the corner I can't help one last glance at the beautiful dark ship. I smile to myself. I'll likely daydream about it.

I'm about to turn my head again, back to the direction I'm going. Before I do this however, my foot drags over something on the ground and I feel myself start to fall. I put my hands out to catch myself and feel them slide in the water on the cobbles. I hit my head hard and blackness overtakes my vision.

"It's not like I did somethin' bad!"

I feel disoriented as the deep voice speaks distantly. I can't seem to focus and I feel unsteady, queasy.

"Cap'n! Ye've no idea where the girl'd been goin'. Or where she'd come from! Ye shoulda jist left'er! Ye did do somethin' bad!"

The other voice seems even further away. But I've gathered now that I'm most likely the topic of conversation. Oh, what in the world is going on? I trip and black out and now I have no idea where I am. And since when did I black out? That has _never_ happened to me before. I have the worst headache I've ever experienced. That is for sure. I reach up and rub my forehead, not shocked to feel a large bump in the middle of my hairline on my forehead. Oh, that is wonderful. Just wonderful!

My hand moves back to its place next to my body. I'm quite surprised to feel a soft bed beneath me. Its rocking.

Last I checked, beds for people over the age of one year, didn't rock. One word comes to my head.

Ship.

"Ship," I say out loud. My mouth feels like its full of cotton.

My eyes open and as they focus I cast them over the dark wood above my head. Yes. I'm on a ship. I turn my attention back to the conversation in the other room.

"-ibbs! I already told ye! It was pourin' man. I couldn't just leave 'er there. She'da caught'er death!" The voice makes a frustrated noise and continues. "She was soaked as it was. I don't know how long she'd been ly'n there. But it must've been a while." His voice is a bit softer now. At least he seems to care. Whoever he is.

"What exactly 'appened. Cap'n?"

"I was jist comin' back from gettin' a drink. I turned to go down that alley closest to us, and there she was. Out cold." I hear a shuffling noise and the dull thumping of boots. They seem to be getting closer. I briefly panic. The sounds tops. "Gibbs. Don't worry 'bout it. Alright? I'll take care of it."

"Cap'n. She's gonna be awfully upset with ye." More shuffling and footsteps that sound slightly heavier heading the opposite direction. The man called Gibbs must be leaving the Captain's Quarters. I assume that's where I am. He has two rooms? Spoiled rat.

"I know Gibbs," The Captain responds to the comment. "But what else could I do? We had te go."

I hear a low growling noise of what sounds like disapproval.

"Gibbs, get out," The Captain says softly.

"I'm goin'." I hear a door handle turn and a door creak open. Then close again.

The Captains footsteps are heard again. I panic again. What am I supposed to do?! A man, a sailor, is coming into this room. I'm on his bed, with a throbbing headache and he's gonn-

The door opens. I turn my head sharply, immediately regretting it. I am shocked at what I see.

He's not just a sailor. He's...a pirate. There is no mistaking it. The fact is given away by his extravagant attire. He's wearing about his head a faded red bandanna, topped by a worn out tri-cornered hat that is so at home on his head it seems he was born with it. His hair, is a sight. Dread locks. Loads of dread locks. Along with small braids and beads entwined and dangling all over as well. His clothing seems to be whatever he picked up from who knows where. Somehow, however, he manages to make it look fashionable. I look up to his eyes and find them deep, dark and brown and beautiful. They are lined with kohl. In short, he's the strangest man I've ever seen. But he's pretty...NO! Where the hell did that come from?!

He raises a dark eyebrow at me and I look to the floor then back at him.

"Awake are you?" He says. His voice is smooth, and yet gravelly at the same time.

I nod briefly. His other brow goes up as he closes the door. He looks at me sideways then smirks. His eyes light up with a barely concealed mirth. I realize in this moment that I am staring. I drop my eyes again and clear my throat quietly.

"What'ere ye lookin' at love?" He moves toward the bed, swaying slightly as he walks. I wonder if he's drunk. If so, that could be very, very bad. Or very good. I suppose that depends on how you look at it.

"Your clothes," I say without hesitation. He scowls slightly as he sits in a chair near the bed against the wall. It's bolted to the floor. Just like all the other furniture, to keep it from moving about in violent storms and such.

"My clothes?" His voice has raised an octave in confusion. He wrinkles his board-straight nose and shakes his head slightly, causing his beads to make a slight jingling sound.

"Yes." I nod. And again, I regret it, as it sends pain shooting around my skull.

"Why's that love?" He grins, displaying an array of straight white and gold and sliver teeth.

I look over his clothes in a way that seems to be scrutinizing. He raises a dark brow again and his grin fades a bit. "They're...interesting." I say. I don't feel the need to expand.

"Do explain."

I roll my eyes. "They're not bad," I say, my voice raising a small amount. "They just...well they're just different. Y'know?"

"No. Not really." He still looks so confused. He must be touched in the head.

"Never mind. . ." I mumble. My hand goes back up to my forehead. He takes notice and chimes in again. "Ye took a bad fall. What 'appened?"

I look at him strangely. I don't know if I really want to tell him exactly what happened. It's embarrassing after all. I mean, I just tripped. Most people can catch themselves and manage to get up and keep walking with a few minor scrapes when they trip. I have to be the one who knocks myself out!

"Well?" He prods impatiently. I suppose I should tell him. He is trying to help after all. At least, that's how it appears so far.

"I tripped." I feel so stupid saying that.

"Ye tripped?"

"Yes. I tripped. That's it. I wasn't watching where I was going and I tripped. My hands slipped and I hit my head. That's it. I know, it's stupid." I look up at him. He's smirking. Evilly. Ooooh. I'm gonna kill him! He sniggers. I'm double gonna kill him! "What are you laughing at?!"

"Ye tripped. Yeah, that's pretty stupid."

I growl and mutter. "So are your clothes."

"Hey!" He looks upset. Pathetically upset. Like...a five year old. What is it with me and getting involved with adults that act like children? "That is completely different!" He says in his defense. I raise a brow as I listen. "At least I didn't purposely..." he pauses. I snort laughter at his mistake.

"You didn't purposely pick your clothes?" I laugh. "Oh yes, I suppose your mother picked them for you." Real anger flashes through his dark eyes, making them burn. The look alone is frightening. Not to mention how quickly this mans humorous, childish looks can transform into features and a glare that is making my blood run cold. Fear flits through my mind.

"Not funny." He says the words quietly, with vehemence.

I don't say anything.

After a moment of awkward and very thickly tensious silence he says, "And I suppose I did pick my clothes on purpose. Alas love," I furrow my brows at the name. I realize this isn't the first time he's called me this. " I think that purposely tri–"

"I did not purposely trip!"

"Well, people don't knock themselves out like that!"

"How do you bloody know!?" I nearly shriek. He looks slightly startled. I growl. "Look, it really doesn't matter! I didn't knock myself out on purpose. Now...how did I get here and what is going on?"

"I carried you here." The look on his face tells me that he is very proud of this fact. "And its on a ship."

"I figured that much," I say flatly. "And?"

He looks nervous. He looks to the floor and fidgets in his seat. "And what?" He asks, the nervousness fading to confidence again.

I scowl. "Are we in Tortuga still?" I ask.

Again he is nervous. My gut twists up into a very tight knot. My throat closes off and starts to burn, dryly. No. This is not happening. I have not been dragged onto a ship, a pirate ship no less, by a seriously mental, drunk, pirate. No, no, no. It is not-

"No...we're not in Tortuga anymore. We're out te sea."

My eyes go wide. I _have_ been dragged out to sea by a seriously mental, drunk pirate! Damn. The pirate captain fiddles with his hands and looks discreetly at me from the corner of his eyes. I make sure I'm giving him the death glare. He visibly flinches and looks away. I'm speechless. I really don't have a clue what to say to this man. And looking at his face doesn't help! What does anyone say to any man who is acting like a drunk child?! He's still got the slight pout on his face. He obviously wants me to be sorry. The question is for what? _I'm_not the one who kidnaped _him_!


	2. Vibing Insanity

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN, CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW ETC. THEY BELONG TO DISNEY AND BUENEVISTA.**

**_A/N: Chapter Two! Woo hoo! Chapter three his half way done. If anyone cares! Again, please review! Thanks! _  
**

**Chapter Two**

_**Vibing Insanity**_

_ Dug my pride with a knife  
Encaged by your obsession with me  
Time for some mental torture and screams of justified pain _

_ So ya gonna chase me now boy?  
Yeah ya gonna corner me now boy?  
You think ya gonna threaten me now boy?  
Somehow I don't think so_

_Imogen Heap "Getting Scared" _

I'm not sorry. I have no reason to be sorry. I have no intention of making this man feel better. My face has gone from shocked, to angry, and now, to trying not to cry. Fear is creeping over me in a very slow wave. The small amount of nausea I felt earlier is now growing rapidly. Tears sting my eyes and threaten to fall. I blink rapidly and try to turn my face away. Oh blast! I can't cry in front of this man!

I manage to keep the tears from falling. But the burning lump that has formed in my throat is not proving easy to swallow. He took me away! He may not have meant harm, but he kidnapped me! He's a pirate! Who knows what despicable things happen on this ship! Who knows what horrid things this man himself is capable of! I realize that my breathing has sharpened just a bit and that he's looking curiously at me. I suck in slowly and quietly, willing myself to calm down. I can't judge him by his appearance entirely. And if he isn't a half decent man, there has to be at least one on this ship. And I could deal with at least half decent. Considering my current location, half-decent would be a huge blessing in its way. Half is better than none at all. He did mean well. Didn't he? He's obviously touched in the head on some level, which means that even if he did purposely drag me away with him on his ship, he thought he was helping me. He did get me out of the rain. Someone worse could have found me. So since he is mental, I should just . . . go with that. He thinks he did me a favor and he's too messed up to tell the difference.

Right?

Then why is he the captain?

I want to dwell on this thought. There is this deep confusion forming in my mind. A mad-man is the captain. Why? The all important question. He's a drunk, eccentric, mental mad man. And he's the captain. Why? I really don't get it. Idiot people like him don't get high positions.

_He isn't crazy. _I snort out loud at the thought. Pfft, yeah, right. It's obvious he's...

"What was that for?" He asks skeptically.

I look up at him and realize he was talking about my snort. Oops. I say the first thing that comes to my head. And it's not a lie . . . " I just cannot believe this." The words are not necessarily angry. But they are definitely not happy either.

"Look love, I knew ye'd be angry with me. But., ye were sopping wet. And I couldn't in me right mind leave ye there." He looks sincere as he speaks, his eyes taking on a subtle pleading look. In short, he's pathetic.

"Yes," I finally reply, "I'm very angry at you. You took me away from my job, my home, and my current life. I'm angry!" I try to sit up in my ranting but immediately regret it and lie back down. I make a low growling noise of frustration and glare at him for a moment. "What exactly do you intend to do with me?" I ask, a touch calmer than I had been the previous moment. He pauses, inclines his head slightly in a thoughtful fashion. His eyes roll one way in a scowl, then back the other way. He takes in a deep breath and says, "Well, ye can't stay withou' workin'." I stare at him, unbelieving. Did he just say I had to work for him? He kidnaps me, and I have to work for him! I suck in slowly and sing my a, b, c's in my head. If he so much as begins to hint in any way shape or form that I am to be his personal play thing, I swear on all my dead ancestors that I will personally, with my bare hands, poke his eyes out and roast them over a warm fire built by the wood from this ship! And after that! I'll cut his tongue out and feed it to my cat! And then! AND THEN! I'll shave his head and--

"Dahling . . ." He grins, his gold caps glittering wildly. I look at him flatly, swallowing the long line of painful inflictions to his flesh that are on my tongue. "A pretty li'l Tortuga w–" The 'w' comes and I lunge for him with my claws out stretched. He pulls a maddened face and falls backwards off of his chair to get away from me. I scream quite loudly, "I will not be your whores!! I don't give a damn if you throw me overboard! Go right ahead! I'd sooner die than be played with by a filthy thing like you!" By this time I'm kneeling on the bed fuming and he's sprawled on his back on the floor, propped on his elbows, looking at me with one side of lip twitched up, like I've turned into some kind of she-devil. I'm going to take that thought as a compliment in this situation.

We stare at each other for a long, awkward moment before he says loudly, "Bloody Hell woman." I relax and lower myself to my back again, trying to calm the throbbing in my head. He stands, slowly, very slowly, never taking his dark orbs off of me. And I never quit trying to glare him down. I have the feeling I'm winning. I resist smirking. "I was only joking dahling!"

I gape at him and make a disbelieving noise. "Yeah, I'm sure you were."

He scowls. He seems to do that a lot. Maybe I bring out the worst in h-- NO WAY! There is no way this is this man's worst. I mean really! Any way, I bring out . . .his . . . scowling. I'm going to dismiss that thought now. God, he's making _me_ go mad. I swear, he's vibing insanity.

"Ye've still got te work." He says slowly. He has not taken his seat again and he's eyeing me cautiously still. Good for him, he learns quickly. Maybe I can train him if I give him cookies when he's a good boy. I snigger softly, then hastily stop myself and ask seriously, "Doing what?" It came out sounding harsher than I had intended.

He relaxes ever so slightly. "Well. . ." He says slowly, putting his index finger up to his chin and tilting his head back, his eyes going wide. "What do ye like te. . .do?" He falters at the end of the sentence, his arms dropping to his sides, obviously realizing that what I like to do may not exactly be transferable into a job of his 'liking.' I answer him anyway, knowing better.

"I like to cook." His eyes shoot up to my face again in hope. "And yes, if I must I will cook meals for every blasted man on this blasted ship. That includes you. And you had best respect me _Captain_! Because it is your fault I am here. And I'm not going to let you forget it! And again, I'm not just a toy, so respect or I can assure you, you will regret it, because I will poison your meal. ." His face is mostly blank, though his eyes are wide in rapt attention. "Got it?" I add with a small, sweet smile.

"Right, I believe that I do love."

I let the nick-name pass. If he goes any further than calling me 'dahling,' and 'love' he'll get what's coming to him.

"The question now, dahling, is does yer cookin' taste good?"

I give him the flattest look I can muster. I want to tell him that I am the best cook that was ever born, but the words won't leave my mouth. Maybe its just because I wish he'd disappear and turn into a toad or something. The toad would probably be more intelligent. He finally raises that blasted eyebrow at me again and I say, "Yes. It tastes better than anything else you've eaten on this ship. You just wait." I close my eyes, hoping to make it clear that I'm done speaking to him.

He makes a huffy noise and stands up. I hear him leave the room.


	3. The Black Ship

**_A/N: So, Pirates Three was amazing! I've seen it twice and plan on many more! And just so my readers, the few of you, know, this story is only based on the events of The Curse of the Black Pearl. Everything from movies one and two does not fit into my plot. . .so, none of it goes. Okay. Just so you know. So when I mention anything about Jack that doesn't go with the movies, it doesn't. It's my own story. So, yeah! Enjoy! Chapter four is in the works. I'll get it up asap! _  
**

**Chapter Three**

_**The Black Ship**_

Jack never came back in. At least not through the rest of the day or that night. I'm grateful mind you. I sit up as the sun slants further into the room as late morning crawls in. My head is not screaming at me yet. So far I'm good. I wonder how long that will last. I still can't believe I fell like that. Oh, why did I have to fall like that!? Why me? I know these musings are utterly and completely pointless. But can anyone blame me?

I have only the slightest idea of the time. By how high the sun is I'd say its around eight or nine in the morning. But in all honesty, I couldn't care less about what time it is. My stomach growls to back this up. I just want something to eat. I wonder if I should venture out of the cabin to find the kitchen, or galley as its called on a ship. My stomach tells me that this is a brilliant idea. Yes, go find the galley! My mind does not think so. Who knows what else I could run into. I'm not all that familiar with ships. And if the men on this ship are anything like their captain, well, this trip will be very interesting. Oh, I want to go home.

I'm actually missing the girls from the tavern. That is sad. But I guess it's logical. They are the only people I really know all that well. I swallow and rub one of my arms with my hand. I take a deep breath. This is not as bad as it seems right? He didn't hurt me when I couldn't move. So who's to say that he will in the future?

My stomach growls again impatiently. I need to eat something, or I'll get a headache. I have no idea why I get headaches when I don't eat, but I do. And it's a curse! I growl as I stand up carefully. The ship is swaying. In turn I'm swaying. This is going to take some getting used to. I pray I don't get seasick.

As my feet touch the wooden floor, I realize that my boots have been removed. Shoot. I look around to see if they are in my line of sight. They better be or that man will get a good swift kick in the behind, after I find my boots. I snigger at the thought of kicking the captain.

I finally spot my boots resting next the to trunk situated at the foot of the bed. I snatch them up and pull them one at a time onto my feet. I lace them up tightly and adjust my rumpled skirts. The tight bun at the nape of my neck is falling out all over the place. I sigh as I release my hair and smooth it as best I can with my fingers. I then wind it back up and replace the bun. That's as good as it's going to get with my limited resources.

I walk toward the set of plain double doors that the captain last departed through and grab the handle of one of them. I slowly push the door open. It creaks. I hate creaky doors. I peer into the room beyond the one I am leaving and take it in. This room contains a dining table with chairs surrounding it and several more trunks. There is a thick red and gold rug laid over the floor. There's a pillow and a blanket on the rug. That must be where the Captain slept last night. He's not here now. I move farther into the room and close the door behind me. I wander around the table, glancing briefly at the maps and tools scattered across it. Not to mention the empty rum bottle.

I continue to the door and cautiously open it. There are men scattered around the deck doing various chores. I cannot see the Captain. As strange as this sounds, that bothers me. I mean, he's the only one I know. Not that I really know him, but I know him more than I know any of these other men. Some of them are considerably less . . . strange. . . looking than him. Hair wise. I mean, they are men. They're all pretty dirty. And that does include their captain. He was dirty. . . Less dirty than a few of them. But nevertheless, dirty.

I furrow my brows and purse my lips together in slight distress. My stomach growls, alerting me to the fact that I am hungry. My gut knots. Where is he?! I'm not entirely sure when he wanted me to start 'working' in his galley and cooking for all these dirt-streaked blockheads, but truth be told I'd be happy to get on that right now so I can feed myself! I sigh and put a hand on my hip. I let the cabin door swing shut behind me. It slams and I jump and glance back at it momentarily. _Note to self: Close the cabin door with your own hands. . . it's noisy otherwise! _

A few of the crew members sharply turned there faces in my direction when they heard

the noise. I smile sheepishly. They all look semi-confused at seeing me. All accept one man: A greying man with a slightly jovial skip to his step. He's smiling kindly and its lighting up his eyes.

"Ye alright missy?" He asks as he stops in front of me. His voice is a bit husky with age, but its also enthusiastic and bright.

I nod, eyeing him carefully. I've heard that voice before. "You must be Gibbs. . . " He looks mildly bewildered that I know his name.

"How'd ye know lassie?"

" I heard you talking to your Captain last night. Might I ask where he is by the way? I need to have a word or two with him. . ." I give him a faintly commanding look. He nods quickly and points up and forward behind me.

"He's up at the helm." He smiles again, seeming proud of himself for some reason. I nod and give him an odd look.

"Thanks Gibbs." I nod at him, indicating that I'm done talking to him. As I walk away towards one of the two sets of stairs leading up to the helm I hear him mutter something about witches in disguise and doom befalling non-believers. I'll log that away. What the hell? Okay, dear Captain Jack is mad, and so is his first mate. Was Gibbs referring to me? Double what the hell?! No, I'm not logging that away. I'm going to ask Jack . . . later. Why am I asking Jack?

_Who else am I supposed to ask. . . ?_

This is most unsettling. Jack is the one person in this little floating world that I can so far, talk to. Good Lord, this is awful.

I step up onto the quarterdeck and make my way over the wheel where the Captain is standing. He's not actually steering the ship. He's showing a map to, and speaking to, a dark _woman_ with black hair who _is_ steering the ship. There's another woman on the ship. I silently thank God and walk closer.

". . .why are we talkin' that route?" I hear the woman ask Jack. He pulls a mildly annoyed look and reply's, "Because, the port itself is full of rich merchandise, like silk, jewelry, ivory and not to mention gold and the like. The ships taking this route will most likely be merchant ships with such as those afore mentioned things. Savvy? We'll want to take them."

"Right. Fine." She turns the wheel a bit and her shoulders sag a bit. Her eyes widen when she see's me. Jack rolls up his map and glances at me unfazed by my presence. He smiles slightly and puts the map away in the chart-table which is situated directly in front of the wheel.

"Good morning deary!" He says in a jovial fashion as he swaggers in my direction. I lift one eyebrow into a high arch and give him a dubious look. The side of his nose twitches in nervous disgust at my expression and his whole body does a barely detectable sway back motion while his fingers twitch in front of him nervously. I resist shaking my head as I watch him. I continue to wonder if he's drunk. How could he still be drunk. Unless he drank something already this morning.

It's way too early to be drinking! But. . . by the look of him, he's either drunk. . .nuts. . . or. . . pretending to be drunk? Why would he do that?

I have no idea.

I'm getting away from myself. I shake my head briefly and bring myself out of my whirling thoughts. "Good morning," I say flatly. "I'm hungry."

"Ah. . ." He nods lightly and snakes an arm around my waist so quickly that I barely have time to realize he's doing it. I try to squirm away from him as he abruptly turns me around and starts leading me back down the stairs to the main deck. I get a brief glance at the dark haired woman steering the ship to find that she is amused and dubious at the situation.

"Of course deary!" Jack sweeps me across the deck. "Ye'll 'ave to do the cooking though!"

"Yes, I know I was just wondering where the galle–"

"So, I'll be taking ye to the galley and you can get started right away!"

I give him a disgusted look that he doesn't notice, whilst still trying to wriggle out of his possessive grip around my waist. I don't manage. . . he leads me to a door directly across the deck from the captain's cabin. He opens and gestured grandly with his free arm and says jovially, "Here is my galley love! I do hope you find it to yer liking!"

I push both hands up against his shoulder and push out of his grip, staggering back slightly. I square my shoulders and straighten my neck. When I look at him again his eyes are wide with bewilderment. He shakes his head once and I glance away from him as if nothing happened to take in my surroundings. The galley isn't large. There's a mast right in the middle of it. . . oh well. There's a small store room to the right with the food in it. There's a stove in front of the mast and a table. I focus my gaze on the table and benches and then look back at Jack. "Are all the crew supposed to eat in here?" My voice raises a pitch with the question. The idea of this makes my stomach roil. The whole crew in here would be cramped and . . . and. . . well ridiculous!

His eyebrows furrow and he looks abashed. "Hell no! Most of 'em eat on the hanging tables on the gun deck. Silly girl."

I purse my lips and glare at him. He cocks an eyebrow and I roll my eyes. I turn away from him and place a hand on my hip and look around a bit more. It's really not so bad. I think I can handle this. And I like to cook. . . a lot. So, doing it most of the day for all these crazy men shouldn't be too bad. "It'll do," I say as I swing my body back around to face him. He looks slightly disappointed that I'm not more enthusiastic. He still thinks I'm supposed to be happy about this. . . that this is supposed to be normal. Good heavens, he's obnoxious.

"Right. . ." he sways a tad, his lower lip. . . pouting. . . slightly. "Well, ye'll have to bring me my meal in my cabin. Three meals a day. Savvy?" He's gone from pathetic to pompous now.

"Fine Captain. . . now get out so I can get started." I move toward him and push him forcefully toward the door. With a mildly alarmed and amused expression he exits the galley. I turn around and set to work. My resources are now limited, but I think I can manage. I smirk to myself. If there's one thing I can do, its cook.

I stand impatiently in front of Jack, who is seated at his desk with a plate of food in front of him. He's eyeing it tentatively.

"How do I know it isn't poisoned?"

My shoulders slump and I gape at him in disbelief. "You know what?" I spit out. He leans back a bit and his lip twitches up. "You are the most ungrateful tart that ever walked the planet! Just taste it, damn it!"

He scowls, then slowly picks up his fork. He picks up a fork-full of hash browns and hesitantly lifts it into his mouth. His eyes go wide in surprise immediately and I smirk know-ingly. If there is one thing I can do well, its cook. Not to be vain or proud or anything, but I was taught to recognize and share my talents. So I do. And I can cook.

"Tis very good love." He nods. My smirk widens to a smile.

"I told you so." I say proudly.

He ignores my comment and continues eating as if I've suddenly become invisible. I really don't mind this. In fact, I think I prefer it this way. It's much better than having him all over me!

It's evening and I'm wiping off the table in the galley, listening to some of the crew just outside talking about how good dinner was. And lunch. And breakfast. I smile to myself. At least something here is right. My food is good. They like it. Which means they'll probably be semi-nice to me. Jack might even be nice to me. . .

"Ello!" I jump and turn around. Speak of the devil. Jack swaggers into the room and plops himself down onto one of the two benches at the table.

"Hello. Did you need something? I'm cleaning, and your filthy carcass isn't helping." He scowls and I mentally kick myself. He's not going to be nice to me if I'm not nice to him.

It's so bloody hard to be nice to him!

"How much longer will it take you?" He seems to have ignored my comment. . . for now.

"I don't know. Just a few more minutes, I just need to finish wiping things off." I turn my back to him and start wiping the stove down. I don't think anything has been thoroughly cleaned in here since. . .well who knows!? I'm going to do that . . . not now of course. It seems the Captain want's something. . . great! Just what I need.

I finish and throw the dirty rag into a corner. I'll clean it and put it away tomorrow. I turn and face Jack. "What do you want?" I didn't mean to sound so sharp.

"Nothing. . . I just wanted to see how it was goin'." He smiles sideways at me with big innocent eyes.

Innocent. . . hah!

"Really? Then why did you ask how much longer it would take me?" I furrow my brows and place a hand on my hip, leaning all my weight to one foot.

He looks thoughtful for a brief second before he responds, "I was just wondering. Curiosity."

I don't like how he said that last word. But I shrug it off. "Well. . . I'm done," I say flatly.

"Grand!" I take an abrupt step back at his loud outburst. He stands up and once again I find his arm around my waist. I grind my teeth and try to push out of his grip. "Then I'll give yah a tour of the ship!"

My shoulders go mildly limp and an unimpressed look washes over my face. He's so damn unpredictable. So. . . I took that the wrong way. I thought he wanted. . . never mind. I sigh and give into him as he waltzes me out of the galley and down the stairs that stand right outside of said room. We move down and Jack grabs a lantern that's hanging on a hook. He turns it up and light floods the darkness. Cannons line the walls. Between the cannons are the hanging tables that Jack mentioned earlier. They are a stroke of genius actually. I like them. I take in more and realize this is where the crew sleeps. Their hammocks are all hanging down here too. Glad I'm not sleeping in here.

"This be the gun deck," Jack says behind my ear. I shiver involuntarily as his breath skitters over the skin of my shoulder. I shimmy sideways a bit so I'm not so close to him. I swear, the man has no personal space. At all. It's completely non-existent.

"I can see that it's the gun deck," I say to him in a tone that says I'm talking to a five year old. "And let me guess, this is where the crew eats and sleeps."

I hear him nod– as his beads and trinkets make light jingling noises. "Very good." He sounds a tad upset. I can't help but smirk.

"Charming." I say in an overtly enthusiastic voice. If he doesn't catch the sarcasm I won't be surprised.

"Onward!" His arm snatches me up again and he pulls me down another set of stairs, holding the lantern out in front of us high. We emerge into a room that smells vaguely of mildew. I hear a goat and chickens making noises from the dark. Milk and eggs. Makes sense.

"This is the brig and the cargo hold." He holds the up the light and it reaches farther back, illuminating two cells on either side of the ship and back behind that, stacks of crates, secured with rope. Cages of chickens and a goat tied up with some straw laid down around it, near a bucket of water and a pile of hay.

"Wow. . . " I really don't know what to say. I am impressed. It's organized. It really is. He doesn't seem to mind my monotonous tone as he goes on to tell me crazy stories of how he was marooned spent ten years trying to get his ship back. He tells me how he was locked in the brig for a while and how there had been a small hole on the side of the ship and that the brig had been full of water.

I take this as his excuse as to why it smells mainly of mildew.

He continues, wildy gesturing with his hands as he speaks of a cursed island and cursed treasure. Whenever he speaks of his ship. . . his tone changes. I glance at him, his eyes and face take on a lustful sort of passion, a deep passion. For a ship.

My first thought is that he's a lunatic who's in love with a floating chunk of wood. But as he continues, telling me how he commissioned the building of the ship in his younger days, how he planned everything out with care, I realized it means more to him than just . . . what a ship would. I feel inclined to ask. . .

"Why did you want a ship?"

He stops and looks at me, his dark eyes meeting mine with the light of the lanterns flames dancing in them, changing them to a mahogany red. It only makes the passion for his topic all the more apparent. "Because, I wanted to be free."

His simple statement touches my heart. If only a little bit. I don't know why, but it puts a small amount of the puzzle that is Jack Sparrow into place. He suddenly grabs my wrist and pulls me toward a door near the stairs. He unlocks it with keys he had on his belt and pushes it open.

"What's this?" I ask timidly. It's very dark in this room, and the maddened grin on his tanned face is doing little to comfort me.

"This dahling, is the rum!" He lifts the lantern up to reveal kegs lining up all the walls. Each barrel is labeled in beg red letters, "RUM." Not to mention the rows of individual bottles poking out from angled shelves. I shake my head as my mouth hangs open. Rum and a ship. Hellfire. . . he needs a life.

"Jack. . . Um. . . " I need an excuse to get out of here. I want to go back up on deck. I need air. . . yes! "I need some air."

"Right. . . just a moment deary." He snatches a bottle from the shelves and turns to me again. I turn on my heel and walk out ahead of him. He locks the door and follows closely behind me up the stairs. . . up the next set of stairs and finally out onto the deck. I suck in the fresh burst of air that floods my senses. "Feel better?" Jack asks with a sly look on his face.

"A. . .yes." I look at him skeptically. What could he possibly be thinking about? I dwell on this for a moment. . . then I immediately decide that I don't want to know. And I really don't want to know what got him started on the topic that I'm sure is roiling around in his brain at the moment. Pervert.

I push my thoughts to something else and suddenly remember I was going to ask him about Gibbs and his ridiculous notions of witches. "Hey, Jack?"

He looks up from trying fruitlessly to open his rum bottle with his long fingers. "What?" His tone of voice is deep and gravely from frustration. He finally takes the cork in his teeth and rips it out, sending a small amount of rum jostling out of the bottle and splattering on the deck and the front of his coat. He doesn't seem to mind. He's now grinning from ear to ear. He throws the cork overboard and takes a long swallow.

Great. Oh well. . .I continue, "Gibbs said something earlier that I wanted to ask you about." He gives me a sideways look and says in a bored tone, "Continue."

"When I asked him where you were, he told me, and then he started muttering something about witches and doom befalling non-believers."

Jack throws his head back suddenly and laughs out loud. I can do nothing but stand rooted to the spot and scowling in confusion. He continues to laugh and I fold my arms. "I'm sorry, Jack, but I have no idea what is so funny. It'd be nice if you'd care to share."

He sucks in sharply in an attempt to calm down. "Witches huh? That's a new one. He's suspicious. . .savvy?" I raise an eyebrow. "Gibbs is a firm believer that all women aboard a ship is bad luck. Apparently however, he thinks yer a witch. . . must've thought you were tying to put a spell on him." He sniggers again. "Bloody hell, that's good. . ."

I shift uncomfortably and swallow. I hope I didn't accidentally do anything. . . "Well, I'm not a witch," I spit vagariously.

"That was awfully forceful." He cocks a brow in my direction. "You sure? You didn't seem so sure on that." He smirks.

I roll my eyes. "Do I look like a witch to you?"

"Well. . . "He puts his pointer finger to his chin and looks up to the star studded sky. "You do put a spell on me when. . ." He grins and I scowl.

"When do I put a spell on you? What the hell are you talking about?!"

"When you walk deary. The swaying of your lovely hips is heavily entrancing. . ." His tone goes low and smooth as he speaks. My eyes go wide and my cheeks flush. I slap him.

He staggers backwards a few steps, more of his rum sloshing out of his bottle. He shakes his head and looks at me with wide eyes. "What the bloody 'ell was that for?!" He nearly shouts in exasperated shock.

"Take that back now or I'll put black powder in your breakfast!" I shriek. He blinks a few times and furrows his brows. His voice raises an octave as he splutters, "It was a bloody compliment love!"

"Stop calling me 'dahling', and 'love', and 'deary'! I'm not your 'dahling', or 'love', or 'deary'! It was a crude compliment. And I won't take it as a compliment. I told you I wanted respect from you! You dragged me onto your god-forsaken piece of junk ship. . ." His face falls and his eyes go wide. . . " without my consent! I don't want to be here! It's your fault I'm here in the first place! I would have far preferred that you leave me to get a cold laying on the ground in Tortuga! I had a life there. It might have been a sad and pathetic one, but your's is far more pathetic than mine was! YOUR FAULT! And if you don't treat me decent you'll never, ever make up for what you did! And don't put it past me _Captain_! I will put something in your food!" I stop my rant and suck in sharply, fuming at him.

He stands there, unmoving, eyes wide, obviously at a lack for words. I turn on my heel and walk toward his cabin. I open the door and let it swing shut behind me, slamming itself. I go into the back room and lock it. I'm stealing his bed again. I don't care what he does about it. If he does anything, he'll get black-powder in his meals. I don't care at the moment if it kills him. Its his own fault. He took me away. . .

I always did want to get away from Tortuga, on a ship with character. Well, I'm away from Tortuga, on the most legendary ship I've heard of . . . _The Black Pearl_. The ship I'd admired only two short days ago. The ship I'd thought I'd wanted to know more about. Now, I've had a full tour, and stories and I'm sleeping on it, and all I want is to forget it. I hate this ship, I hate the people on it. I want to go home. . . to Dover, and all I can do is pray that I get _somewhere_ safe with my virtue intact.

**PLEASE REVIEW! **


	4. Rats And Unicorns

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN, CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW ETC. THEY BELONG TO DISNEY AND BUENEVISTA.**

**_A/N: Thanks to my two reviewers! Here you go! I'm still writing! Woot. I hope you enjoy. There is a little bit of a plot development. Don't worry, there is a really awesome plot. . .I'm just slow getting it out into the open. Please review, unless your a flamer, cause then I'll jut laugh in your face. _  
**

**Chapter Four **  
_**Rats and Unicorns**_

My eyes flutter open to the blue half-light of morning. It's still early. Glancing around the cabin, I see no sign of it's captain. Slowly I move the deep blue blanket off of my legs and put my feet on the cold wood floor. I tiptoe to the door. I'm leaving this ship. I have to leave this ship. There's no way in heaven, earth, or hell that I can take anymore of this. I'm only three days and two nights away from Tortuga. . . I don't want to go back to Tortuga.

I want to go home to Dover. That's a six week voyage on ship if your lucky. Long swim. I'll have to make stops. I open the door and close it softly behind me. I don't want to disturb anyone. I should jump from the back. I make to move for the stairs that go up to the quarterdeck when I hear a groan and soft whimpering noise. I turn with my foot on the first step and scowl. There is a figure at the bow, curled up tightly. I scowl and turn my body in that direction.

"Dagger. . . dagger. . . dagger. . ." The voice slurs, and the figure twitches and pulls his legs up closer to his body. As I move up to the stairs to the deck where the figure is I gasp softly to find Captain Jack Sparrow clinging tightly to a bottle of rum, a pained expression on his face, muttering, "dagger. . . dagger. . .no. . . please. Not her."

I look from side to side and my heart starts to pound in my chest. I can't wake him. He'll be fine. Everyone has nightmares. Even crazy, idiotic captains that think they own the world. I sneer at him and my pity for his nightmares fade. I have no sympathy for him. I turn and walk away without a second thought. This is all over now. I'm ending this ridiculous 'adventure.'

I move toward the quarterdeck with purpose in my step. When I reach the stern I climb up onto the railing, clinging to a rope. This is it. I'm leaving the Black Pearl, and I'll be glad to never see it again. I bend my knees to jump, but as I begin to push up and fall, two strong arms snag my waist and yank me backwards.

"You bloody foolish girl!" I squeal as I fall back onto Jack who hits the deck with hard thump. "Oof." He groans and I try to scramble forward.

"Let me go! Let me go!" He clings to me, his arms tightly around my waist. I struggle, grabbing at his arms and scratching them, my feet kicking wildly. "Get your hands off me you filthy excuse for a man!"

He growls low in his throat and turns his body over, roughly pinning me to the deck. "Stop struggling you miserable tart! I'm not going to let you kill yourself!"

I try to spit at him, but come off unsuccessful. "I wasn't going to kill myself. I was going to go home." I try again to struggle, but he's pinned my arms behind my back and his entire body weight is sprawled over me.

"Oh really?" He briefly chuckles. "It's three days by ship to Tortuga. You can't swim there. You'll die. That's suicide."

"I wasn't going to Tortuga, you rat. I was going to Dover." He laughs. Hard. I can feel his chest rumbling against my back and I shift uncomfortably.

"You were going to swim to Dover?" He continues laughing. "Dear God girl, you do want to die. You're not going to kill yourself." He calms a little and puts his face close to my ear. "You listen hear. I'm not so bad that you 'ave to go to such extreme measures as death. And trust me, you don't to drown." I roll my eyes.

"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm not going to drown!" I shriek louder than I'd intended. By now a few of the crew members are standing sparsely around the deck, watching in various stages of amusement and bewilderment.

"You silly tart, yes you would. I hate to break it to you, but just because you're a proud pain in the arse," I try to kick him backwards, but fail. I growl in frustration as he continues unfazed . . . "does not make you subject to immortality. Nobody could swim to Dover from here. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"Then you need to get out more. And you're the one that's a pain in the arse! Get off me you fat cow!" My lips sneer up and I feel my jaw twitching in angry irritation. He's such an idiot. I'm not going to drown.

"I'm not going to get off of you until you promise you won't jump overboard!" His voice is rising just a tad. . .

I growl as I speak, "I'm not promising you anything! And I won't drown!"

"Yes you will. You senseless ninny of girl!"

"I'm not a girl! I'm a woman! And if you don't get off of me, I swear, I will inflict great pain upon you the next chance I get!" I wriggle again, but his arms and his weight holds fast. The crew laughs slightly and I glare at the ones in my line of sight. Not to mention, I bare my teeth and scowl like a 'she-devil', as the lug on my back so quaintly put it. I'm gonna kick him so hard where it hurts if he doesn't remove his carcass from on top of me.

"If you are going to inflict pain, you'd have to stay aboard this here ship, that is not, by the way, as you so charmingly put it, 'a godforsaken piece of junk'. If you try to jump again, I'm going to lock you up. Do you understand me?" He's speaking to me like he would scolding a child. I can't help but notice that his words are clear and he's acting quite sober. This realization is very unsettling. His personality switches are very disconcerting.

"Stop talking to me like I'm a child," I spit vehemently. "Get off dammit!"

"Don't jump off the ship."

"Get off!"

"Promise not to jump and I will." His tone has gone sing song. I make an annoyed snarling noise.

"You obnoxious cur!"

"Promise, and I'll get off."

"WHY DO YOU CARE?" I shout at him.

He winces. "Because."

"That's a really stupid reason. . ." I suck in sharply through my teeth.

"I don't give a damn if it's a stupid reason. Jumping off the ship is stupid, and I'm not going to let you."

"Again I ask you, _CAPTAIN_, why do you care?"

Humor laces his voice, "Because, you're far too young and pretty to die."

I gasp and try to kick him again. "Stop insulting me, then complimenting me you two faced wretch! And get off! Fine! Fine, I won't jump! For now." He relaxes a tad and I add, "I've still got to inflict great pain on you. . ."

He growls again and throws himself off of me. I jump up and scowl at him, evilly. Fine. He doesn't want me to jump, then I'm going to make his life a living hell. He glares back at me evenly, then he pompously cocks his head sideways and tilts his nose up. I'm going to. . .ooh, there's no words for what I'd like to do to him. I huff and storm off toward the galley.

Breakfast went without event. I purposely sent Rick. . . or Richard. . . or Ricardo. . . something like that! Anyway, I sent somebody whose name started with an R to give the _Captain_ his breakfast. It is now lunchtime and I'm digging furiously through all the spices and other junk in the storage room off the galley trying to find the salt! For crying out loud! If there is no salt on this ship I swear I will murder him! "Stupid, stupid man and his stupid, stupid ship and . . . all this junk!"

"What on Earth are ye doin'?" I jump and turn around quickly. Previously said Captain is standing in the galley in the doorway to the storage room. I'm trapped. . . My response to his question is golden.

"Looking for rat poison," I spit out. Then I smirk, fold my arms and lean my weight on one foot.

His straight face barely moves. All he does is raise one eyebrow slightly and sway a few centimeters. "Ye wont find any deary." I take a very, very deep breath and say my ABC's in my head. I'm ignoring the 'deary.' Just ignoring. Okay. I'm fine.

"I figured that much. Which is rather unfortunate really. . ." He's got this sort of blank, unamused 'but-I'm-still-listening-for-some-strange-reason,' look on his angular face. ". . . because I was really looking forward to dumping it in you soup. And the best part is!" I point my finger at him and grin manically, "you'd never even have the foggiest idea it was there till you were dead! And then I'd be off, to home."

His expression has not changed. He's just staring at me. I stand there for a minute, my pointer finger still threateningly outstretched toward his face, my mouth still spread wide with my teeth clenched and bared, before I realize that I probably look ridiculous and he could care less. . . I pull my finger away and straighten my back.

"Ye'd be off home?" He smirks and his eyes go wide.

"Yes," I say with a tilt of my head.

He shakes his head and leans his shoulder on the doorframe. "You're mad woman. What makes you honestly think ye can swim all the way te Dover?" He has mischief playing on his face.

"None of your business. . ." I mutter darkly.

"Uh huh. You're nutty."

"And that makes you a hypocrite," I mutter under my breath, but I know he heard me.

"Anyway," his tone completely changes. He sounds drunk again. Weird. He continues, "You won't find any rat poison. And I'll know if there's gunpowder on me plate. Which would be another cause to lock ye up. So, what are ye really lookin' for?"

I sigh. "The salt," I say dully, in a defeated voice.

He chuckles and swaggers past me. "Here." He reaches to one of the higher shelves and pulls down one of several small bags. My face flushes. Well, I'm blind! Or maybe it was just denial. I suppose I just wanted to convince myself that it wasn't up high so I wouldn't have to go ask for help. I hate being short. He hands me the bag and I can't help but glare at him. I mutter a grudging, "Thank you. . ." and stride past him into the galley.

He turns in a magnificently graceful spin and follows me back into said room. I try my best to ignore him. I open the bag of salt and take out the amount I needed, sprinkling it into the soup I'm concocting. I close the bag of salt and walk back past Jack into the store room where I put it away on a lower, more reachable shelf. I go back into the galley and continue with my soup. Through all of this, his eyes have not left me, or rather my hips. Does he think I don't notice?! Honestly. It's very uncomfortable to have someone scrutinizing your arse for very long periods of time without restraint. . .

I finally turn on him like a cat. "Do you have any sense of tact or respect at all? Any? Even the tiniest inclining of caring how you make someone else feel?"

He smirks madly, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "What kind of feelings?"

I press my lips into a thin line and glare at him under my brows. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I noticed you staring at my behind? Did it ever occur to you that I might be uncomfortable with you doing that? Did it ever, in your very small and obviously incapable of understanding most things, brain, that I might not want you to do that!?" As I speak my voice slowly rises in pitch with flustered anger. I gasp a deep breath and find that I"m now baring my teeth at him. I seem to do that quite often.

He's scowling just a tad now. But he seems unfazed. DEAR GOD, IS HE EVER FAZED?! "The only thing that occurred to me deary," He says in a very business like manner, "is that you have lovely hips, and that ye should take that as a compliment. Savvy?" His eyes travel from my face and down.

I stand up straight again, from my lean-over-and-give-the-captain-an-evil-look stance, realizing that my bodice is rather low and he most definitely just took great advantage of that. Damn him! I stuff the necklace I'm wearing back into my bodice as it slipped out when I bent over, and turn away from him. "Everything I just said to you went over your head!" I say more to myself, throwing a hand in the air. "You are completely deaf to everything you don't want to hear. Incredible. You're a loon. . ." I drop my head into my hand with a loud slap. When I lift my head again, I jump and squeal slightly. "Oh! Please don't do that!" Jack is standing in front of me seemingly out of the blue. He ignores my minor outburst as his eyes are fixed so intently on something that he looks as if he's in a perfect daze of madness. (Not hard. . . )

What are you looking at. He starts to reach his hand up for the opening of my bodice and I jump back and swat his hand to the side with a wretched growl. "Don't you dare touch me!"

"Love. . .?" His nose twitches on the left side, his eyes squinting, then going wide again, "What is that. . .?" I look down and realize he's looking at my necklace. Oh. Crap. He's staring dazedly at the unicorn carved in silver, rearing over a red marble, hanging on a silver chain.

I sigh. "It's a necklace, Jack. What does it look like?"

His eyes flick up to meet mine. "W-where'd yeh get it?"

"My father gave it to me. Do you mind?" I place my hands on his chest and push him out of my way, so I can get to the stove. He staggers slightly and shakes his head as I begin to stir the soup.

"Can I see it love?" I turn and find his face very close to mine, causing me to arch my back away from him.

"No, you may not see it." He swallows and his eyes go big and sad. Again, pathetic.

"Why not?"

"Because, its mine. And you," I back my feet up so I can stand up straight and look him the face, "Are a pirate. It's mine. And you cannot have it. I don't trust you. Kay?" I add the last with a little tilt of my head and a sarcastic smile.

**_THANK YOU! PLEASE REVIEW. . .IT KEEPS ME WRITING. And read my other stories. . .they're not bad either. Wink wink. _**


	5. Curiosity Killed

_**A/N: Hey guys! Look updates! YAY! Just a quick warning. There is a small excerpt of italics in this chapter, that is Jacks POV. That wont happen very often. But yeah. Just so you know.**_

_** Enjoy and please review!  
**_

**Chapter Five**

_**Curiosity Killed. . .  
**_

Jack looks at me for a long moment with a moderately blank expression, his hands held up on either side of him, fingers twitching a bit. Then he scowls slightly, glances at the floor, then back at me. If I didn't know any better I'd say he looked . . .sad?

But of course, the thought has to be ridiculous.

He stands up straight, his face falling even more, hands dropping limply to his sides.. I furrow my brows. He nods once and says, "Aye. . . of course ye don't." He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes with the perfectly unfazed madness that usually accompanies his expressions. Instead I see something else in his dark mahogany orbs. A murky look, a pained look, something bubbling beneath a barely kept on surface. It's scaring me. I take a step back.

He changes personalities so quickly. . .

He turns around and strides out of the galley, the skip and swagger in his step not so prominent. He simply looks as if he's any other man trying to keep his balance on a swaying ship.

I swallow the lump that has formed unexpectedly in my throat. What on earth would have made Captain Jack Sparrow suddenly fall into a minor depression. Not that I'm sure he's depressed, but sad. He was defiantly sad.

Trust? The fact that I don't trust him?

Should that be a surprise to him?! I don't trust him. And that's just too bad for him. He's delusional in thinking that anyone should trust him at all.

I turn around and snatch up my spoon. I start stirring the soup wildly until hot liquid splatters from the pan and onto the skin of my arm. I hiss in pain as the spoon falls too the floor with a loud clatter. I examine my arm as it cools. Nothing serious. If there had been more liquid it would have been worse. . .The silvery, scaled flesh fades back to the tone of my skin as the liquid dries. I glance around cautiously. No one had even been close to the open galley door. I sigh and pick up my spoon, willing myself to calm down.

I finish the soup and serve up lunch, fading into the background as the crew boisterously enjoy their meal.

I clean up the galley and wander out onto the deck. Instinctively I move toward the bow where the chipped angel reaches for her ever distant and lost freedom. I lean my elbows on the rail and rest my chin in the palm of my right hand. My thoughts start swirling in a misty drift as I stare at the indigo blue water churning below me. I try so hard to keep my mind from turning to Jack. . .but I can't do it. I have so many stupid questions that I want to ask him that would sound so ridiculous. And he'd probably never understand anyway.

At least. . . I don't think he'd understand.

But of course, even if he did, my questions would be rude and improper to ask. Why that bothers me I don't know. . .seeing as he has no tact in any way shape or form. Why should I have tact?

Because I'm not a jerk like him?

I groan and drop my face to my hand. Why on Earth do I care so much?!

. . . it seems I'm asking myself more questions that I actually want to ask him.

_I stare lazily out the window with my boots propped on my desk, contemplating my situation. My fascination with a woman is absurd a and highly discomforting notion. Such fascinations usually pass quickly. They always leave me in trouble in one way or another. . . As I lie to said women so much. _

_But. . . this is very bad. She's not like the rest of them. She's not falling for my charm and confusing words. She's not taking my bait and hook so to speak. She's a smart fish. . .smarter than any fish. . .er woman, I've ever had the . . .pleasure? of attempting to hook, or rather. . .well, I'll not get myself into that one. _

_I sigh and turn my kohl lined eyes to stare at the dark wooded ceiling. _

_There's something in her silver eyes that won't leave me alone. But that same something is terrifying to the deepest level. She started off thinking I'm nutters. Which is decidedly true in certain notions of certain peoples thoughts. But that is beside the point, because I'm not entirely nutters and this I know for a fact. . ._

_That's the problem though. She'll find out I'm not crazy._

_She's digging with her shovel of curiosity into the darkest recesses of my conscious and all I can do is pray that I can build up some defense to stop her before she reaches the core. Because my defenses aren't working with her. . . and I cannot let her find out. _

_But I don't know how to behave now. . . I suddenly feel very uncomfortable in my own skin. I shiver involuntarily and squirm. Except. . . I cannot writhe out of my own flesh. _

_Either way, whether I find some way to wriggle from my own flesh, or I finally find someway to act and get her off my back. . . keep her away from me, either way. . .this will be painful. Especially because I seriously doubt there will be a way out of my skin and my uncomfortable and disturbing dilemma is going to hurt. _

I swing the door open and stop suddenly. Jack is sitting at his desk with his feet up staring at the ceiling looking as if he's about to drool. . . or puke. He looks up at me. I expect to see a crooked smile cross his tanned features, but instead his face remains straight. His eyes slither sideways from my face then back at me. He knits his eyebrows together as I close the door slowly. Something feels different. The tension in the room heightens to an intoxicating point.

"Sit down. . ." He motions to the dining chairs around the table.

"Are you alright?" I ask slowly. Those pathetic words are the only three that I could think to say to break the silence. They were quite inane in response to his question. And far too fast. His face twitches and he says too hastily with a casual wave of his hand, his face too straight and calm to be his. . . "I'm fine love."

I swallow and let the name roll off. For a long uneasy moment I stand in silence, Jack still staring at the ceiling. As I watch him I try to pin-point the reason for my discomfort. Am I imagining it? Is he aware of this thick tension that has suddenly wafted out of nowhere. Not that there wasn't tension before . . . but its much worse now. I swallow slowly and move toward a chair at the oval shaped dining table. I sit down carefully, at first trying hard to avoid looking at him anymore. But then I can't. . . my eyes drift over to his still form. He seems oblivious anyway, staring lazily up at the ceiling, his eyes half closed.

_What on earth is bothering me so much?_

As I watch him, it hits me like a breaker on a cliff. He's acting. . .too normal. I think that in the back of my mind I'd been hoping that he'd stop acting like a lunatic. But now that he seems almost normal. . . whatever the literal denotation for that is in the first place. . .it's bothering me. Maybe that's because he just doesn't _look_ normal enough to _act_ normal. But, thinking this through more clearly I come to the conclusion that its more accurately the fact that suddenly I don't know what to expect. And that frightens me.

We sit in silence and I feel it clouding my senses. A loud buzzing begins to ring in my ears, getting louder and louder as nothing is heard save the waves and the creaking of the ship. I feel as if space is closing on me and I can't really breath. Normally I don't mind silence, but something about Jack just makes me want noise, so much that my brain has to start buzzing and blaring at me! I need to talk to him. . . I can't handle this any longer. . .

As I speak the buzzing suddenly splits and the room is so much quieter. This is no comfort at all. "What were you dreaming about on the deck this morning?" I blurt the words out without thinking.

His head comes up, stiff on his neck. His dark eyes meet mine and they smolder, seeming to go a lighter, more fiery shade. His jaw hardens and I could swear I hear his teeth grind. His whole body has gone rigid, like a statue. . . one that is far too real to be someone other than God's artwork.

I feel myself suddenly shrinking in my seat. The only problems is that I am most decidedly not getting any smaller, and I find this very, very unfortunate in light of the situation. Because I would really like to disappear right now. I do not like angry men. . .and I do not trust him.

He swallows slowly, finally moving from his rigidity. "It doesn't matter. . ." he mutters finally. A deeply pained look flashes quickly through his eyes, so quickly I thought I'd imagined it. But how do you imagine someone else's pain?

My curiosity escalates. I want to know what is going on in his head. I want to know so badly. But my frustration also escalates. . . I'll never know what's going on in his head. That's probably for the best too. I just have to get off of this ship as soon as I can and forget I was ever here. One way or another. . .I'm going home to Dover, to my mother.


	6. Three People In Two

**Chapter Six**

_**Three People in Two**_

I lazily put the last of the dishes away and plop down onto one of the benches in the galley. I've been on this ship for a month. A routine quickly became established. . .

I get up from sleeping in the Captains bed while the Captain sleeps on the rug in the other room. (He is not happy about this set up. . .He seems to have this ridiculous attachment to his bed. I will not delve into the reasons for said attachment.) Then I make breakfast. . .then lunch. . .then dinner. Then I proceed to wander around a little bit and stare in boredom at the sea. And observe the Captain. I've discovered he is more fascinating than anything I've ever been fascinated by. And more confusing. . .

But I've figured something out that disturbs me on a minute level. Or this disturbance just hasn't manifested itself fully quite yet. But dear Captain Jack seems to be two completely different people. On deck he is boisterous, ridiculous and a complete lunatic. On deck, he speaks animatedly with his hands flying and his facial expressions changing constantly, all the while swaying like a tree in a hurricane.

But. . .in the cabin. . .his guard comes down. Or rather, goes up. I can't really tell which. But in the cabin, he is quiet, wary, and dark. It's almost like he's afraid to speak to me. Of course, there is the possibility that this may be due to the fact that when I first got here I treated him like a rat while I was the viper waiting to devour him. I did threaten him with rat poison. . . that could be considered venom.

I clear my throat to no one but myself, feeling my face go hot in shame. I'm not a mean person. I don't think I am anyway. I hope not. I'm nicer to him now. . .but then. . .we really just don't talk. I gave up trying to talk to him. There's just nothing to say. I'm afraid we'll just start screaming at each other in heated frustration like afore mentioned first week on the ship. Or he'll turn to stone again. I never want to see him like stone again. There was something in his expression when I'd asked him about that dream that absolutely makes me want to shudder, even now. I scowl as the ingrained image of is angry face burns brilliantly vivid in my mind like the light of a thousand candles in a black room. His eyes are the most apparent feature. Most of the time Jack's eyes are laughing. But as I've been observing him, and studying the hard look that will forever be ingrained into my memory, I've come to realize that there is a wall of diamond behind the laughter.

I sigh and drop my head to the table. Why do I care so much? Why the hell do I give a damn what he's hiding or why he's acting the way he does? He's a lunatic.

I don't care.

I'm just bored.

I lift my head confidently and stand up to leave the galley. I close the door and walk across the starlit deck toward the cabin. I open the door quietly, ignoring the fact that the night watch is giving me a lewd look I close the door gratefully and sigh with my back to the outside world. I open my eyes to find the cabin dark save for three lit candles on the desk. Jack is sitting behind the desk, bent over a map with some odd tool in his hand. He looks up at me, his mouth in a thin line with one eyebrow cocked, his eyes are glittering with the flickering orange light, but otherwise void of emotion. With such looks, he seems like nothing more than a hollow shell pretending to be a man.

I school my expression to be as blank and uncaring as his. "Hello," I say flatly.

His eyes shift oddly, almost too quickly to catch, before the rest on mine again, then they flit back down to the parchment in front of him. "Hello." His response is emotionless as I expected.

I stand for a moment and contemplate what I should do. I'm not tired and therefore not ready to go to sleep yet. I let my guilty conscious get the better of me. I'm going to try again to act like an nice, normal human being to him. I wont be here forever and then he wont matter anymore.

I take a few steps away from the door and walk around his desk to stand next to him. "What are you doing?" I ask with polite interest.

His long fingers pause and the muscles on his back stiffen. He turns around slowly with his eyebrows raised and his mouth open slightly in a very stunned curious look. "What?" I ask innocently, my eyes going wide.

"I'm checking our course. Why?" His voice takes on a haughty huff with the last word and his nose twitches in annoyance. Why do I have the feeling this was a bad idea?

"I'm just curious." I say slowly, tilting my head down but keeping my eyes locked on his, watching the very subtle changes in his emotions. He's cautious now.

"You're not. . ." He scowls and looks around the room. My eyes, wide, shift sideways in confusion, wondering what he's trying to see. He stands up suddenly and I take a hasty step back. He scowls again and his eyes flit a bit before he grabs my wrist and spins me around.

"Ow!" He lets go of me abruptly. "What was that for?" My voice raises a pitch in startled offense.

He ignores my question. "Yer not trying to kill me are ye?"

My mouth falls open. "What the hell made you think I was trying to kill you?!"

His nose flinches and his right eye gives a small twitch as he turns his head ever so slightly sideways as he looks at me. I stare at him, waiting for an answer. "Well. . ." he says slowly. "You've threatened me before love, so this wouldn't be a shock at all would it? And considering that I'm quite sure ye dislike me a whole lot, it also wouldn't be that farfetched of an id–"

"–I never said I didn't like you!" I squeal in my defense.

"But you most definitely implied it dahling. . ." He drones on, trying to look behind me suspiciously. Which is most ridiculous as both my hands are at my sides and are considerably empty!

He stops suddenly and straightens up. His eyes go into thin, thoughtful slits. I scowl at him expectantly, wondering what delusional conclusion he's come to now. . .

His mouth suddenly spreads into a wide grin. "Oh I get. . ." His eyes sparkle mischievously and I'm reminded immediately of my first few days on the ship. He's suddenly got that overconfident air about that most certainly means trouble.

"Get what?" I throw my arms out. "I asked you a simple question."

He straightens his back, his smile now taking on a saucy lilt. "Ye came in te 'talk' te me," as he speaks the word talk his fingers sketch quotation marks. "To get a bit comfy. . ." His voice rises a pitch and my chin lowers toward my chest, my eyes glaring at him from under my brows dubiously. "And so. . .ye could sleep wiv me."

My mouth falls open again. I blink a few times, trying to decide if I've heard him right. But, judging by the lusty, cheeky grin on his face, I undoubtedly heard very unfortunately correctly. I slowly contemplate my response. I do not want this to get worse than it already is. I have no desire to have another outburst that will cause him to get angry. I take a deep breath and say calmly, "Jack, I simply was trying to have a friendly conversation with you. I am not going to sleep with you."

He pouts. I have to try very, very hard not to roll my eyes.

"Why not love?" He grins again. "It'll be fun."

I close my eyes and say my ABC's very quickly in my head. I open my eyes again and look at him. "No. I'm not just going to hand over my virtue to you. Sorry."

His face falls and that wall comes back up in his eyes. "Fine, then go away." I scowl again in shock at the sudden change of demeanor. He strides in a haughty fashion back to his chair where he sits down heavily and leans over his work again.

"Jack, just because I won't sleep with you doesn't mean I can't be your friend!" I say in mild exasperation. Did I really just say I wanted to be his friend? I contemplate that for a minute and realize that for the little time left that I'll be staying on this ship . . .it wouldn't hurt either of us.

"Don't have friends love." He says flatly, with no trace of emotion, and no trace that he's joking.

"You don't have friends?" I shake my head slightly in disbelief. "Jack, that's ridiculous, I'm sure you have friends. . ."

"Nope, I don't." He still doesn't look up. "Don't care."

I inhale slowly, hardly believing what I'm hearing. "Jack, you have to have at least one person you–"

He looks up suddenly and nearly shouts, "NO! I do not have at least one person that I talk to! I do not need friends! Least of all you!"

I fall back at his outburst and hit the wall with a terrified expression on my face. I stare at him wide eyed, the color gone from my face. As I stand there, my chest heaving, his angry face washes into a look of horror. Then it falls straight. "Go to bed Mel," he whispers in a hard voice.

I obey without question, more convinced than ever that he has multiple personality disorder. And more worried about myself than I've been throughout the entire thing.

I rush into the other room and close the door. I can't help locking it, though I'm sure he has a key to his own bedroom on him somewhere.

I move to his bed and sit down shakily on the edge of it.

My shock and initial terror slowly fade as I sit rubbing my arms. My eyebrows furrow suddenly as a new feeling washes over me. Sadness. For him. I stare for a long intense moment at nothing, wondering what I should do. But I come to the same conclusion that has always been there, even through my long strands of reasoning.

I just need to go home.

He doesn't want me here, and I still don't want to stay. I don't. I'll forget like he will, and we'll both be better off. Thank God for the day I walk off this ship.

I lay down slowly and curl up under his blankets. I'm restless though. Little strands of thought are whizzing about in my head like bullets, keeping me awake with their noise and their vivid images. The most blatant image being that of Jack, of a man, screaming that he did not need friends.

What could have brought on such a wretched conclusion.

I slowly drift into exhaustion, thinking about that angry man, the happy man, both Jack. . . and me.


	7. Most Definitely NOT Drunk

**Chapter Seven**

_**Most Definitely NOT Drunk**_

I jump awake as I stop falling from a cliff in my dream. Damn, I hate those dreams! I shudder, remembering the image of the jagged rocks below, waiting to shred me to bits. If I'm having 'fall from something and jump awake' dreams, I'm definitely antsy. I've got to find a way to calm down.

I need to cook.

I jump up from the bed and straighten my dress and re-fix my hair, knotting it tightly at the back of my head, ignoring the few wavy strands that escape from the bun. Feeling presentable at last. . .at least, as much as I can be, un-bathed, on a pirate ship, I leave the cabin (Jack having also already left) and head straight across the deck to the galley.

I throw myself into the making of breakfast, trying to push away everything else, but the focus of my task and thoughts of being home with my mother and father. If he's home that is. He's not often home. I smirk to myself knowing why and absentmindedly touch the unicorn resting on my chest. As my thoughts turn to it and my finger brushes the translucent ruby colored and violet tinted marble, it heats up slightly, warming my skin. I smile, knowing that at least one thing in my life is secure.

I serve breakfast and the crew eat heartily, turning my thoughts discreetly to pride. I realize I'm starting to feel better, if only a little, by keeping my thoughts on good things and not worrying about things I can do nothing about. I clean up the meal and start the next, happy in my chore and knowing that I can get home when I need to. With or without the ship I'm currently residing on.

Evening falls with a balmy breeze and a calm sea. I haven't seen the captain all day. This has proved to be quite cheering. A day is easier without the captain! I smile again. I'll be glad to be rid of him then. He's a parasite to my happiness it seems. I sit down on the bench at the galley table and put my head on the table, enjoying the quiet.

A board creeks and before I can even open my eyes I feel an arm snake around my waste and I'm pulled from my sitting position with a loud shriek. My voice is silenced quickly however, as Jacklocks one arm tightly around me, pulling me to his body, my hands resting feebly on his chest. I stare up at him as he takes a long swallow of rum and then looks down into my silver eyes with his mahogany ones.

"Hello love. . ." He grins crookedly.

His breath reeks of alcohol. "Jack!" I push my hands down hard on his chest and press back against his arm, trying to free myself. He holds tight, the grin never leaving his face. "Let go of me Jack!" I squeal softly.

"Nah uh, deary." My eyes go wide as he kicks the galley door shut with a loud smack. He turns me around and pushes me backwards.

"Jack? W-what are you doing?" I meant it to come out sounding more demanding. Instead it was a squeaky whisper. His only response is a throaty chuckle. The empty rum bottle is dropped to the floor with a clang just as my back hits the wall and Jacks body presses tightly against mine. I thought he was close a second ago. He is now impossibly closer, his nose half a centimeter from my own. I turn my face slightly, looking at him out of the corner of my eye, pressing my body back against the wall as far away from him as possible. That however, is completely futile as he only moves closer, his body melding to mine. My breathing begins to hitch as his now free hand comes up and cups my cheek in his hand.

"J-Jack?" I repeat, again sounding breathy and panicky in my shock.

"Yes love?" His voice has now taken on a low and gravelly quality. His breathing is nearly as fast as mine (for a different reason, however) and the grin has faded from his face, leaving it smooth and straight, save for the mad fire burning in his dark eyes.

"P-please, could you–" My question is silenced as his hands come up on either side of my face in a gentle but strong grip, and his lips come over mine, leaving me wide eyed and speechless. His kiss is soft, yet very impatient. I can't bring myself to move. Not even to push him away. He starts moving his mouth faster, sucking on my lips trying, desperately it seems, to get me to respond to him. I can't. I won't. But why can't I move?! I never wanted to kiss him!

I don't want to now!

. . .so why can't I move?

I simply stand there, battling myself in my head, my arms limp at my sides while Jack is holding my face with intense grip_**, **_still kissing me like he's a man in the desert and I'm water.

He suddenly pulls away and I stagger sideways with the sudden lack of support. I look at him shocked. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

"Love. . ." He says slowly, his mouth curling around every syllable. "You need serious practice in the area of kissing."

My mouth falls open.

I'm very tempted to hit him. But I refrain knowing full well that he wont remember tomorrow at all. He'll remember none of this. Which is good, because he won't remember the kiss either.

"Jack." I say very slowly, "You are drunk. You need to go to bed and sleep it off."

"No love!" He says vehemently, waving his arms above his head suddenly. "I am not drunk! I'm jist fine! Completely sober. . ." He grins sideways and winks at me. I give him a half dubious half mortified look before I grab his arm and pull him out of the galley towards his cabin. He staggers behind me, chuckling as his stumbles.

Halfway across the deck he clears his throat in the midst of a stumble, then bursts into song as I catch him with one arm around his back. "My law is my own!" He stops momentarily and says, "This is me favorite line love. . ." He continues again as I grab the door handle to his cabin and drag him staggering inside. " My ship is my throne!" He chuckles proudly, and goes on again, " My flag is red! At the Royal mast head.. . ." The song fades into a hearty laugh as I throw him down on the rug. He turns over and sits up, grinning at me like a child. I do a double take, seeing the light in his eyes. The smile is more sincere than any he's ever given me. And he's drunk.

I stare at him, into his eyes for a long moment, my eyebrows knitted in confusion. I've never, ever seen him so. . .happy. But he's oblivious. Confusion washes over me, and something tugs at my heartstrings. I lean closer, causing him to tuck his chin slightly and the corners of his lips to fall straight. "What love?" His eyes shift in what seems to be amused confusion.

"Your. . .eyes. . ." I say softly. He quirks a brow at me, his lips twitching into a smile again.

"You like 'em love? You think they're gorgeous and ye want te make love te me?" His face breaks into a sunny grin, his eyes full of hope, gleaming innocently. I stand up straight again.

"No, I do not. Besides, what do your eyes have to do with making love?" I ask skeptically in a scolding tone.

He looks puzzled. "I dunno, but it sounded nice love."

"Go to sleep Jack, your drunk, and you wont even remember this tomorrow!" My tone is falsely cheery.

"But love." He pouts, his lips turning down and his eyebrows knitting, his eyes going wide, whilst glittering with the alcohol glaze. I never ever thought I'd think he was cute, but bloody hell. . .that's cute!

"Oh dear Lord. . ." My head falls into my hand with a slapping noise. "Go to sleep!"

"I'm not drunk! . . .and I'm not tired." He grins wide again. I swear there's seven different people in his head. . .

And strangely enough, right now, I don't want to leave. I want to stay right here with him. He's a lot happier when he's smashed. I sigh, thinking about the night before, how upset he'd made me. How upset he'd been. . .

His words crawl back into my head and I can't believe them suddenly, looking into his eyes now. His eyes pleading me to stay with him.

_"NO! I do not have at least one person that I talk to! I do not need friends! Least of all you!"_'

He's contradicting himself. "Jack, I thought you didn't want me around." I say quietly, my curiosity seeping into my tone.

"When did I say that love?" He slurs, smirking. "I never would've said that. . .that's ridiculous." I scowl at him and say slowly, "You said it yesterday. You yelled at me that you didn't need friends."

"Dahling," He pulls himself to his feet, lurching to his right for a moment before he regains his balance. "I may 'ave said I didn't need friends." . . .He obviously has no recollection of the conversation at the moment. . . "But we can of course, be more'n friends. Savvy?"

Dear God. I roll my eyes and shake my head. "No." I say flatly. "Go to sleep." I turn and walk away toward his bedroom, to again leave him on the rug.

"But love. . .?" I glance behind me to find him standing, pouting again, his arms hanging limply at his sides in defeat, his toes slightly turned inward. He reminds me of a sad school boy

. . . a very dirty sad school boy.

"What Jack?" I ask firmly, trying to ignore the look, and the strange, sincerity in his eyes

. . . that I have got to be imagining.

He just looks at me confused, but no words leave his mouth. "Go to sleep Jack. I'm not sleeping with you." I walk away and close the door, leaving him alone. I sigh and shake my head, wondering what madness tomorrow will bring. And for some reason. . . feeling just a pang of guilt for leaving him.

(())

I wake as the first slivers of light peek into Jack's cabin. I roll out of his bed and pull my boots on, and straighten my hair. I cautiously walk over to the door and push it open. Jack is still curled up on the floor underneath a faded red blanket snoring softly. "You're gonna have a headache. . ." I mutter. I sigh and sit myself down in a chair watching him, not sure what to do. I know I should go cook breakfast. But maybe I should get him coffee to help with the head pain.

The problem with that is, is that if I leave it for him, it might be cold by the time he wakes up. Not to mention I don't know how he likes it.

I shake my head and stand up. If he wants coffee he'll have to come get it. I remind myself that I'm not his personal assistant. I cook. That's it. And it wont be for him much longer. Whether or not he's nice. . .er, when he's drunk. I walk toward the door and am about to open it when a low whimper reaches my ears. I turn back around and find him, curling himself up tighter into the fetal position. His whole body twitches and another whimper escapes his barely opened lips.

I swallow slowly and contemplate waking him. I wait. He doesn't make another sound. He keeps himself balled up and he twitches occasionally. But he's quiet. I turn my back on him and leave the cabin. Not my responsibility to mother him, I think to myself.

I begin breakfast, with Jack hanging from a string in the back of my mind. Unlike yesterday I'm thinking about him, wondering when he'll show up for his coffee groaning about the pain in his cranium. I want him to come. I want to see him. Only because I want to see his behavior. He claims often that he's drunk. But there's always been something dark in the back of his eyes. Yesterday, there was no dark. He was walking in a perfect blissful oblivion of not remembering whatever that dark is.

I clean most of breakfast up after its finished, leaving some for him that I can heat up when he staggers in here. I start wiping off the stove as the door opens. I turn around and stand up straight as he slowly meanders into the room, with a reserved, pained look on his face.

I raise a brow at him. "You want coffee for your hangover?" I say in a semi-scolding tone. He seats himself unsteadily down at one of the benches and nods at me. I heat the coffee and his breakfast and set them down in front of him with a dubious look.

"You know, getting drunk won't fix it," I say in a light tone as I continue my clean up.

He growls at me sideways. "I take it you saw me sometime last evening."

I snort. "Oh yes, I saw you Captain."

He sighs but says nothing.

"You were fantastically happy when you were drunk, " I say matter of factly.

He looks up at me and his foul demeanor turns quickly as he says, "Love, I'm usually cheery." Again, his lips are curling around his syllables and his eyes are bright. But the dark is back, hiding behind the bright glaze of mahogany. I stare at him, my mouth open just slightly. I can't help but squint my eyes a little in confusion as I look at him. I cock my head sideways just half an inch. One of his eyebrows goes up, crawling underneath his bandanna for a brief moment.

"What?" He asks, with a forced smirk. Its just like all the smirks I've seen before. They've all been forced. I swallow and shake my head.

"Nothing." I go back to my work, leaving him to his food so he no longer has to put on his show for me. The conclusion to the mystery of Jack is slowly filtering into my head, but I can't be sure till later. . .

(())

The afternoon passes by blandly without Jack returning to the galley. I send his food to him via another member of the crew called Malcolm. After dinner passes by I head back to the cabin, curiosity filling me up, along with dread.

I open the cabin door and casually walk in. Jack is as usual sitting at his desk like he always is this time of evening. He glances up at me as I sit myself down on the small red couch that faces the rug Jack sleeps on. I'm surprised to find that its rather hard and uncomfortable. But I don't move.

"Deary, that his positively," He stands up and sways around the desk toward me, "The worst possible place te sit." His mouth is exaggerating his words again and his eyes and hands are helping to emphasize his speech.

"Yes, I found that out myself. But I think that for now I'll get over it." I look up at him, observing him discreetly. He definitely seems drunk. The swaggering walk, the swaying in place, the twitching hands and wandering eyes. . . But he did that this morning. And he'd had nothing to drink before he'd had his coffee. He wasn't drunk.

He's not really drunk now.

Dear God, he _is _pretending to be drunk He's acting smashed even though he has no idea how he really acts when he's really truly drunk. Bloody hell. . . what on Earth would possess a man to pretend that he was drunk 24 hours a day?!

I stare at him. I don't realize I'm gaping till his eyebrow goes up. I shake my head and look at the floor. "Ye alright love?" He says slowly, his expression anything but sincere.

"Yes. I'm fine." There's obviously not much I can do about it. But it bothers me. Why? Why would a man do that? He must be hiding something. But going to those measures is. . . is . . .well insane! No bloody pun intended.

If he's not really drunk, and he's acting, which he is, this isn't him. Does that mean that the real him is the angry one that insists he doesn't need friends? Or is that just another cover up for the real him? Bloody hell, this is so confusing.

I sigh and try to clear my head. The incessant circling of my thoughts over something I have no control over will not do. Not at all. If I can get to the bottom of it I will, but the requirements for that may not necessarily be something I'm willing to gain or give. I look up at Jack. "Go sit down and work on whatever you were working on. I'm fine. Just thinking." He scowls at me but turns around and staggers slightly back to his chair. I am however quite aware of his eyes still resting on me. I ignore him and reach up absentmindedly to play with the unicorn around my throat. It responds to the touch of my fingers, glowing just slightly, warming. I lean back even though the couch is not comfortable and close my eyes, trying to relax.

After a long while my eyes come open and I scream and jump. Jack jumps at the same time, though not as far. He barely moves. He's squatting in front of me staring awestruck at the unicorn necklace, his hand reaching out for it, to touch it. I shew him away.

"No! Get away. You can't have it. Its mine!" I nearly snarl at him. I'll protect it with my life. He flinches slightly.

"I just wanna see it love. Can I just see it?" His eyes are wide and curious.

"No, you may not." I say firmly, staring him right in the eyes. "You already asked me that remember? And I said no." My tone is somewhat softer now, but no less demanding.

He smiles crookedly. "No harm in me asking again deary. It was worth a try." His expression is lighter now, more carefree. His eyes are still burning with want.

"No, I suppose not, but no matter what Jack Sparrow, in this regard it's the answer you will always get, so don't bother trying again." I sit up strait, at the end of the couch now, three feet away from him.

He leans back and sits on the floor. He looks into my eyes and a new feeling enters the room. His air is friendly. Though I can still see the con artist in the back of his eyes. "What is it love?" He asks.

My heart thumps hard, the sound of my blood pumping becomes loud in my ears. "Its just a necklace, Jack," I say, trying to keep my voice smooth.

"No it isn't," he whispers.

I give him a dubious look. "What makes you so sure?"

"Love, look at it." He stares at it again and my nerves tighten. He's way too observant. "Its. . .glowing, and. . ." He doesn't say anything else. But I know he can sense it, he can feel that it's different. If he takes it. . .no, no. He can't And even if he did, he doesn't know what it is or why it's so important, why it's different. But he knows it is, and I know I can't convince him otherwise.

He finally looks back into my eyes and I simply stare at him cautiously. His eyebrows furrow slightly. "What is it love?" He asks fervently.

"That is irrelevant to you, Captain." I say slowly, quietly, trying to make the threat in my voice clear. One of his eyebrows rises, sneaking up beneath his bandanna. He smirks.

"I'll find out love," He says, a crooked smile spreading his features, his eyes sparkling with mirth. I keep my face straight as I stare at him dubiously. I glance away with an air that clearly says I won't give him the time of day at the moment. But as he continues speaking to me I can see he doesn't quite get the hint. "Love. . .why're ye so . . ." He pauses, looking like he's thinking hard to find the right word, " Prickly. . ." he finally says. "Today," he finishes.

"Because," is all I can say.

He gives me a skeptical look. I look away. "Pathetic." He says, laughter in his voice.

I glance back at him to find the look on his face amused. . . and. . . My heart starts pounding. His eyes are staring into mine, seeing inside me. His smile starts to fade and a serious expression washes over his face, though the subtle mirth in his eyes is still present. I feel my breath come a little faster. I don't know whether to be terrified or thrilled. I think I'm both. Picking between the two won't happen, that's for sure.

"I'm still waiting for the rat poison. . .love." Jack says, breaking the tension. I swallow, stunned out of my reverie by the comment. I gape for a minute then give a breif humorless chuckle.

"Ahh. . ." I close my eyes and shake my head. "God Jack. . ." I look at him again. I'm not going to poison your meal." He subtly smiles at me, sincerely. I smile back, just as sincerely. . .and something in my shifts in that moment. Something in me changes towards him. The tension, for only for the moment, dissipates and I feel comfortable, sitting in this room, with him. I feel comfortable with myself. My smile stretches a little farther and I look at the floor, my face flushing just a little. Jack lets out a soft laugh, like a butterfly it's so wispy and quiet. I give him an odd look, raising one of my eyebrows.

"What?" He asks, amused.

"That laugh sounded so out of character to you."

He grins wide, his teeth glittering in the dim candlelight of the cabin. I laugh a little and he does too. The sound is deep and rumbling. I'm acutely aware that I'm paying far to much attention to the details of him suddenly, and it's scaring the hell out of me.

"That's a better laugh for you." I look away, smiling, trying to hide how odd I feel suddenly. I hated him three days ago. . .what is going on. Dear GOD, NO!

Just because part of him is kind and sort of friendly does not mean that I like the other Jack's. . . I cant.

I stand up, suddenly needing to be away from him. For entirely different reasons then I've ever needed to be away from him before. "Goodnight Jack," I say very briefly. I walk away, leaving him looking bewildered, and go into the other room. I crawl into his bed, intensely and frighteningly aware of his masculine scent on his red, gold trimmed pillows. I fall asleep slowly, odd scenarios involving Jack playing out in my head. . .

**_A/N: HERE COMES A CHAPTER DUMP GUYS! I HAVE A WHOLE BUNCH FOR YOU! :) _**


	8. Water On The Floor

**Chapter Eight**

_**Water On The Floor**_

I'm spread out over the rug, wishing I could have my bed back. Alas, I know that I cannot, so I try to concentrate on getting myself to unconsciousness. As I begin to drift off a chill washes over me. I open my kohl-lined eyes as my skin starts to crawl from some unknown force. I sit up as I realize one of the windows is open a crack. I look at closer, squinting. There is water dripping from the sill onto the floor. I throw my blanket off and walk over slowly. I squat down and run my finger through it, then proceed to taste it. Salt water.

A door creaks behind me. I jump to my feet and turn around just in time to see the door to the room Melody is asleep in come closed. I stare at it momentarily before I grab my pistol.

(())

_My laughter bounces off the walls of the cabin as his hand pushes my hair out of my face. "You're ridiculous!" I shout teasingly. _

_"I know." He says, smiling languidly. The smell of saltwater wafts off of his bronze toned skin. I reach up and toy idly with the long strand of bright colored beads hanging on the left side of his head. He leans in. . .he's going to kiss me. . . the aroma of salt water is intoxicating. Suddenly fear overwhelms me. I feel cold. I'm freezing. His hand comes up and touches my collarbone. The warmth I expected from his touch is not there. I jump from the icy cold touch of his fingertips. They feel wet. . . _

_I open my eyes._

_And scream. _

I open my eyes.

And try to scream. But a hand comes over my mouth.

There is a muted gray face looming above me in the dark. It's not Jack. It's definitely female. And I know exactly what she's after. I writhe under her as her free hand, the one not covering my mouth, moves over my collarbone and closes around my necklace. I struggle, but to no avail. My breathing is stifled and I feel dizzy, white spots dancing in front of my vision. I feel my resolve fading.

They can't. . . they just can't. Dear God, I'm going to die. I don't want to die. I try to scream again under her salty grey palm, but the sound is too silent. I'm too breathless. Tears leak from my eyes as she fumbles with the unicorn, tugging on it stupidly. Someone must have sent her. . .she's a copy. . .a . . . shadow. . .of . . . what she used to. . . be. . .

My thoughts swirl, and I can feel my consciousness slipping away. When I'm knocked out, she'll have no problem getting it from me.

There is a loud clatter. I think it's the door opening. Then a boom, a loud echoing boom. The grey hand gripping my mouth slackens and falls, just as my consciousness leaves me completely.

_**A:N/ Don't you guys totally love me? Good thing there's another chapter coming right up! :D**_


	9. Occasionally Decent

**Chapter Nine**

_**Occasionally Decent**_

All I can see is dim light with a strange shadow blocking out the source. There is a brief moment where I think that it's that woman again. But the deep, soft voice I hear, at least, I think I hear, is not the voice of a woman.

As my thoughts become more clear, I recognize that voice finally. It's Jack. I try to make out what he's saying, feeling nervous that I'm not able to move and he's sitting next to me. His words run together, softly and slowly drifting passed my ears. It takes me a minute before I realize he's singing. The words still don't come to me. . . another minute passes and I realize that he's singing in french.

I'm shocked momentarily. The situation feels so odd. I want to sit up, to see him, to move out of my paralyzed state. I want to feel safer! I feel vulnerable.

And yet. . . I want it to last. He's singing. The melody is soft and sweet. His voice is not perfect, but the words come sincerely, whatever they are. I wish I could open my eyes. I feel a hand on my forehead, pressed palm down. He removes the hand, satisfied that I'm not feverish and continues his soft singing.

Who is he. . . ?

Minutes go by and I try again to open my eyes. They come open slowly and I take in my surroundings. I'm still on his bed, lying where I was. The only light is coming from a lantern hanging on the ceiling behind Jack, who is sitting in the chair near the bed. I'm surprised to see him dressed the way he is. He definitely was sleeping before he came in here. . . and shot my assailant. He's in nothing but his breeches and an open shirt. I ignore his muscled chest and torso and look at his face. He stops singing when he see's me looking at him.

"You alright?" He asks quietly, giving me a genuine gaze of worry.

I make my mouth form the words, "I think so." They come out softly, and I realize as I speak them that the muscles of my face around my mouth hurt. I reach up slowly to investigate with my fingers only to have Jack put my hand back at my side. "You're a bit bruised from where that she-devil fish-thing was holdin' yer face. It'll fade soon though. You'll be fine." He smiles slightly and all I can do is give him a small nod.

I glance past him toward the floor. There is no body like I expected. "I had her tossed over." Jack says quietly. I nod again, grateful I didn't have to be conscious for that event. I close my eyes and try to relax. "Love?" Jack says after a minute of silence. I open my eyes again and look up at him. "What was that thing? And why did she want that?" He points to my necklace.

I sigh, my hope of him not asking dashed. "She used to be a mermaid. . ." I whisper, knowing full well I can't get out of an explanation to him now. "I don't understand. . .why they keep changing, turning. . .into something mindless." I sigh tiredly, my nervousness and worry. . . and my fear, showing on my face.. Jack looks at me confused. He doesn't seem at all surprised by the mention of mermaid.

"What'd she want the necklace for then deary?" He prods, his words soft.

I look at him, not sure what to say. I don't want to tell him. My instinct tells me he'll react like any other man, pirate or not. And the fact that he is a pirate doesn't help. He'll want it. His greed won't let him leave it alone, not with the lifestyle he leads.

But I see no way out of it at the moment.

My eyes delve into his briefly, testing him. He's too hard to see, too hard to understand. I have nothing to go on here, nothing but faith that I can make this work.

"It's a key," I say bluntly.

"A key?" He asks, his tone raising a pitch, one eyebrow arching.

"Yes Jack, a key." I hope he doesn't delve, but I know he will. The curiosity in his face is like that of a child at Christmas.

"To what?" His eyes are sparkling.

"To a treasure of mermaids. It's buried deep in the sea inside a cave that you cannot enter without this." I hold the necklace up a little bit.

He stares at me for a long moment and says nothing.

I stare back, daring him to challenge me for it.

"Oh," is the only slow, thoughtful word that leaks from his lips. His eyebrows go up with the words, like he's in awe, but not sure what to do about it.

"You cannot have it Jack. You can't get to it."

He glances at the floor where the mer girl had fallen dead, remembering, he says, "Then, whoever want's te take it has to be fishy. . . so as they can actually get to it wivout dying?" He glances back at me, waiting for me to confirm is question.

I swallow and shove the word out of my throat unwillingly. "Yes."

Jack's eyebrows furrow as he looks at me from underneath them. I can feel it coming before he even asks. "Then why do_ you_ 'ave it love?"

I take a slow breath and look him right in the eye, knowing I cannot afford to let him think that under any circumstances he can get to the treasure. "I am it's guardian."

"Why?" Is all he asks.

I sigh, almost feeling annoyed. "Because, my father is the guardian of the other key. This one was passed to me when I was old enough. He used to have both of them, but having them separate is safer."

He's thoughtful for a long moment, his eyes tilted up toward the ceiling as one of his elbows leans on his knee. He looks back at me and says, "logical. But why do you have it Melody, if its mer treasure?"

"Oh come on Jack, don't be daft." I mutter the words, thinking it should be obvious. Especially after the woman who attacked me had legs when she walked in here.

"The only way I see it workin' is if you were a mermaid yerself deary." He looks amused and proud of himself as he looks at me from beneath his eyebrows.

"Very good Jack." I say sarcastically, turning my head to stare strait in front of me at the opposite wall.

"But love," He sounds distressed. . .he's whining again. Not overly, but he's still whining.

"What Jack?" I ask, talking to him like I would talk to a six year old.

"I hate to break it to ye, but ye've got legs." He grins, his metallic teeth glittering as they catch the light of the lantern.

"Yes, Jack, I do, and when I get wet, they turn into a fin."

"Oh! I get it now."

I stare at him momentarily, wondering what happened to the man who was singing in french earlier. I brush it off and sigh again, looking away. He's quiet for a very long time, so I look back at him. His expression is deeply thoughtful, and very very confused.

"But love?" He asks, his voice raising an octave in question, "How does that work?"

I sigh, for the millionth time I swear and proceed to explain. "When I get wet, my legs fuse together and are then a fin. Yes, I have scales."

He gazes at me for a long time before he says slowly, his lips curling around his words the way they often do, "Can ye show me?"

"No." I say flatly.

"Why not?"

"Because that would require water and me taking my skirt off, and I have no intention of getting wet in the middle of the night, let alone removing my clothing in front of a sex crazed pirate." I smile at him sarcastically.

He scowls. "You don't know I'm sex crazed!" He says in his defense.

"You're a man Jack Sparrow, end of story. And when you were 'drunk'" I say the word miming quotations around it, "you begged me to make love to you. You are sex crazed."

His scowl deepens, but he says nothing.

The silence thickens and I sigh regretfully. "I'm sorry Jack, I'm not trying to be cruel, but I'm not really in the habit of trusting men, considering I cooked at a damn whorehouse."

He looks up at me, something forgiving peeking into his eyes. "I s'pose I can understand."

"I'm sorry. . ." I say slowly. I bit my lip for a moment before I say, "And thank you. . .for saving my life."

His face and gaze soften a little, "Yer welcome love." He smiles a twinge and I smile back. After a long look that's beginning to feel awkward he says, "Do I get a reward?!" His grin is suddenly as bright as the sun and as wide as the seven seas, the hope in his eyes blazing like a bonfire.

"Oh God Jack!" I can't help but laugh a little. "What did you have in mind?"

"Love making?" He says enthusiastically.

"No, I told you that you were sex crazed," I say, not breaking my calm demeanor.

"A kiss?" He asks next, no less enthused.

I press my lips together thoughtfully, "Mmm, no. No kisses."

"On the cheek?" He points to his cheek as he says so.

I shake my head apologetically.

"A hug?" He asks, sounding like he's at the end of his rope.

I look up at him from underneath my thin blonde eyebrows.

"On a few conditions, Captain, you may have a hug." I say, a sly smile creeping onto my features without my permission.

"What conditions?" He doesn't sound sure if he should be excited or nervous. But he's hopeful.

I never knew a hug could make someone so happy. . .

"You try nothing. And I mean nothing, this is a friendly, short, CLEAN hug. No reaching for my arse, no trying to kiss me, no touching me in any way that is inappropriate. Got it?" I ask him in a business like manner.

"Got it. I think I can handle that love." He smiles at me, his face beaming.

"Okay, then I will hug you," I say as I sit up a little bit.

Jack comes to the edge of his seat and his shirt falls aside again as he moves, I try to keep my face from flushing as I see his bare upper half again, in plainer sight. He's beautiful. . . . I look up quickly before he notices as his arms come around me. My heart starts to pound as he comes in closer. He smells like sea salt and fresh air. . .and a little bit of rum. I put my arms around him briefly, very aware of how hard his body is. He pulls away after a moment and sits back, leaving me feeling somewhat empty.

Which of course is ridiculous. Dear God. . .help.

He smiles at me, still beaming. "See, I am capable of acting decent occasionally." There is humor lacing his voice.

"So you are. That gets you some credit. You should do it more often." He gives a small laugh as I lay back again, feeling exhausted.

"You sleep Mel. . ." Jack says, his voice soft again, the tone it was in when he was singing, when he thought I was still sleeping.

"I think I'll do that. . . " I hear his chair creek and my eyes come open again. "You won't be far will you?" I ask, the words falling out of my mouth before I even think them.

He turns back and smiles at me. "Of course Melody. " He turns away again and douses the lantern. I hear his footsteps leave the room, and I feel okay. I feel better. . .for some strange reason, than I have in the weeks since I've been here. I'm glad, for the first time, that he's in the room next to me. I feel safe. And that alone is odd. I drift to sleep from exhaustion, waiting for weird dreams that I hope won't come.

_**A:N/ That's it for now. Chapter ten is about 1/4 of the way done. Thanks for reading! If you're still there friends. I'm sorry its taken so long for me to update. I have been writing, I just haven't had extra time to fit in actually posting the fic. But I'm doing it! I'll be better from now on. Life if just nuts right now. I'm in my last 2 months of highschool, so be patient with me! Thanks again! Reviews appreciated! **_


	10. Still Not Ready To Die

_**A/N: Yay! Finally an update. :) And it's long! This is mostly from Jacks POV. Which is weird. But I hope you enjoy. Sometimes I'll switch to Jack. But hey, just makes it interesting. Please Review! It'll give me incentive to write more. :D**_

**Chapter Ten**

_**Still Not Ready To Die**_

The day that followed was absolutely event less. And the surreal quality that had surrounded the brief good moments I'd shared with Jack was long gone. Thinking over it, I knew that mentioning it to him would only be awkward.

I feel nervous as my thoughts swirl. His curiosity has to be peaked. He's the kind of man who likes a good huge trove of treasure. And this treasure is the vastest to be found. Not to mention it's all full of mermaid magic.

I stare listlessly into the sea with my chin resting on my hands as I lean my elbows on the railing. The deck is full of men, it is the afternoon after all. They're all ignoring me, for which I am grateful. Though I'm sure Gibbs is staring at my back warily. That's a constant though.

After last nights episode he's probably more convince than ever that I'll bring doom upon the entire ship. I know however, I'll just bring doom upon myself.

The sea is unsettled. There is something new floating upon its surface, or lurking underneath it. Something evil, something that is changing mermaids into horrid zombies.

I shudder at the image of the woman who tried to strangle me. I pray she wasn't related to me or something. That would be utterly horrible.

I hope my father's alright. . .

And I pray Jack doesn't get any ideas. I enjoyed his presence last night so much I want him to stay that way. I don't want to know if he was faking the calm uninterested demeanor.

I sigh and turn away from the railing. It's lunch time and I'm hungry. I'm sure the men are starving, probably wondering why I'm just standing around.

I work in silence, alone, nearly wishing Jack would bound into the room and demand attention of one kind or another. That frightens me.

That I _want _him to come.

Because yesterday, I wanted him to stay away. And I wanted to stay away from him. I sigh, feeling most decidedly. . .undecided.

Am I. . . beginning to like him?

Okay. I like him. I never _hated_ him. Well, maybe I did, for moments. But do I actually. . .care? Now? Because he acted . . .sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for?

Yes. . . sweet. He was sweet. A kind, clean hug. Gently checking me for fever. . . singing in FRENCH! For crying out loud!

I drop head into my palm and make a low growling noise. Dear GOD! I'm beginning to like him alright. Maybe more. At least on a level of curiosity.

I rub my temples, closing my eyes.

Yes. I like him. On the level of curiosity. Which means, the level that the 'What if's?" are

going through my mind in rampant circles.

What if I do end up loving him? What if he loves me? What if we have kids? What if it doesn't work? What if he doesn't like me? What if he's insane and I get my heart broken? What if? WHAT IF? **WHAT IF?**

I growl and move forward snatching up a spoon. I must take out my frustrations upon food.

* * * * * *

Jack never came bounding in. And I was thoroughly disappointed.

Bad.

. . . I think.

I roll my eyes at myself, having told myself several times through the course of the day that I was being ridiculous and that if I didn't want to get hurt I had to forget about the one moment where he seemed sort of human. Basically, Mel, Get over your stupid, damnable, stupid, idiotic, stupid crush on a psychopathic lunatic!

And yet, as I walk to the cabin I'm secretly hoping he'll be at his desk. . .

I open the door and step quietly into the room as it's now dark and if he's possibly sleeping I don't want to disturb him. When I turn around however, there is a single candle burning on his desk, only a stub and flickering out. I furrow my brows and purse my lips in confusion. He's nowhere to be seen.

I shrug and blow the candle out, too impatient to watch the flame drown itself in wax. I head toward the door to the back room to go to sleep, trying to wrestle away the disappointed feeling that I know I should not be having.

Of course, it stays, and no matter how hard I try to ignore it, it just comes louder and louder into my thoughts, mocking the resistance. I move into the room and close the door behind me, sighing at myself.

When I turn around my mouth falls open and I suddenly want to tear his hair out! Not that that would be a bad thing in general as I swear his hair is alive and he'd be more attractive with a different style.

Dear God! He's laying on the bed! My bed! Well. . . his bed. But where I sleep! And he's laying on it!

He completely ignores me as I gape at him. I haven't found words yet, so I just stare at him. He's wearing only his breeches and an open shirt. And his bandanna of course, but that thing seems like its fused to his face. For all I know it is.

He's lying on his back with his arms held nearly straight up in front of him holding a book. A small book. I can't imagine how uncomfortable and tired his arms must be, but he seems oblivious if it's tiring him.

Finally I blurt out, "What are you doing!?"

He jumps and his head snaps up, facing me. "Oh! Hi Mel!" He says as if he hadn't noticed me. I know he did. I made no effort to be quiet once I thought he was nowhere in the cabin. "I'm reading." He hastily finishes by answering my question.

"I can see that," I say, trying to sound a little calmer. "Why are you in here, reading?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, love, see, this is my bed. And I rather miss it."

I stare at him.

"You're kicking me out?" I say. A part of me cannot blame him. He is correct after all. It is his bed. But no respectable man makes a woman sleep on the floor.

My thoughts sort of go blank for a moment as I stare at Jack dumfounded as he stares at me innocently. I mentally slap myself. Who the hell am I kidding?!

Jack is no respectable man! _For God's sake Mel! Look at him!_

"Ye okay love?" Jack asks. He never answered me.

"Ah, I'll survive. Are you kicking me out?" I repeat. I just want to hear it, though I'm sure its inevitable by the picture he's painting with his actions.

Jack shakes his head and I scowl. "Okay, then what are you doing on the bed Jack?"

"I miss it love."

"Yes Jack, we've established that you miss your bed."

He chuckles and I curse the fact that the sound makes my spine tingle just a little in delight. I avoid looking into the inky pools of his eyes, knowing full well that I would melt and make a blubbering fool of myself. Especially if he's smiling.

"So Melody, since I miss my bed, I've decided that I'm going to sleep in it tonight. It is rather comfortable you see."

I finally look up at him, my annoyance back and going stronger that my girlish crush. For the moment. "Well then Captain, if you've decided that you're going to sleep in your bed, and you're not kicking me out then where do you intend for me to sle– "

Suddenly, it makes sense.

He laughs at my sudden look of astonishment. Or maybe the word is dumfounded. Yes, I'm dumbfounded and feeling rather stupid for not seeing it from the moment I entered this room.

My eyes slowly look back up at him and he laughs harder.

After what seems like years he finally quiets. I cannot bring myself to stop gaping. I'm attempting to be angry. I want to yell at him, ask him what the hell he thinks I am? But. . . the other part of me is trying not to let the smile that hasn't shown itself yet crack onto my face.

"Go ahead Mel," He says with a slight grin, one that's amused and hopeful, but not for the reason he's on the bed.

"W-what?" I ask after a few seconds.

"Go on. . ." His grin spreads a little wider. "Let your lips spread across yer teeth. . . "

"Huh?" I furrow my brows.

"Smile Melody."

I blink a few times. That was the last thing I expected to hear him say.

Smile Melody.

I slowly let the corners of my lips turn up into a smile. A little laugh escapes my throat, followed by a louder one. Soon enough I'm laughing so hard my sides hurt and Jack has joined in. He's sitting up now with his legs crossed, holding his ankles. . .just laughing. I fall to my knees, wondering when the last time I felt like this was.

There's a tension though, and as I'm laughing I feel it start to break within myself, and I start to cry. At first it's just tears and laughter, but then I start to cry out loud, the laughter dying. I feel tension releasing, anger fading as I start sobbing.

Jack has stopped laughing and has gotten from the bed. I feel him kneel next to me and one of his strong arms comes around my back, pulling me close to him. I lean into him until my crying stops. I close my eyes and ignore the little voice in the back of my head whispering that I'm leaning on Jack's bare chest and Jack has his arms around me. I'm not actually going to think about it too hard, I'm just going to enjoy it.

* * * * *

It's very warm. Almost too warm. Like I'm wrapped in several blankets laying in a stuffy room with sunlight directly on me. But it's still dark. This much I know as there is no milky yellow light penetrating through my eyelids. Even in the too-warm heat, in my more than half asleep state it's cozy, comfortable. I smile dreamily and curl up a little tighter, bowing my head down. Instead of meeting with the softy cushy-ness of a pillow, blanket, or the sheets, it comes against something relatively hard in comparison. At first I ignore this minor oddity as this semi-hard object is not altogether uncomfortable and it is very, very warm against my forehead. I like it.

I snuggle into it a little further, nuzzling against it with my nose. It is only at this particular moment that the alarm bells start ringing in my head. Why? Because the warm-thing MOVED. It even moaned slightly.

With a very sudden clarity everything in my mind is very clear, and I am very awake. My eyes snap open to only a dim light. I'm confused momentarily because it should have been the bluish light of early morning. But instead it's tinted red. For a moment I wonder if the end of the world is nigh, but I realize that the scratchy feeling on my cheek is the sheet above me. And it is red. I throw it off and sit up, finding the bluish early morning light I was looking for.

And Captain Jack Sparrow breathing deeply next to me, his shirt wide open. His pants are still on, thank God. And I'm still fully dressed. Thank God even more!

I try to breathe deeply and realize I must have fallen asleep in his arms and he decided that that was permission enough to hold me all damned night!

Okay. I decide I must think rationally. Nothing happened. Nothing bad happened.

This is puzzling. But it is fact.

Odd.

Nothing happened. I turn and look at his face and I can't help the fact that my respect for him instantly grows. Knowing him, resisting must have been a very difficult task in deed.

It's the weirdest feeling, but I'm actually proud of him.

I roll my eyes in an amused, resigned sort of way and fall back onto the pillow. I sigh and turn my head to look at him. He really is so handsome. He's beautiful. And to be honest, I do not feel abashed staring at him this way at all. At least not while he's sound asleep.

I turn onto my side and curl my hands under my chin and study his face. There are more stress lines around his eyes than you'd notice while he was awake. Especially because of the thick layer of kohl always surrounding his eyes. In this early morning after he's been sleeping the black has faded to a smudgy brown and it is anything but opaque. He looks worn out as he sleeps, like where he is now is not as much of a reprieve as it should be. His eyebrows are knitted together just a little, as if even in his sleep, he's thinking too hard about something.

About five minutes later as the sun is peeking in through the windows of the cabin with the first subtle tints of pale silver light, he stirs. He stretches his arms out high above his head and I hear a bone in his hip pop as his body goes taught. As he relaxes again, his eyes flutter tiredly open. For a brief moment he is raw, his emotions and face are not schooled and I see a sad, exhausted man behind dull eyes. But as his eyes focus on me they light up and a very subtle ripple goes over his mannerisms, making him appear as if he was a marionette and his master just pulled his strings a little tighter, took control. He smirks and my heart does the tiniest little flip, which I ignore contemptuously.

"Good morn'n love," He says as if waking up with me was the most normal thing in the world.

"Good morning, Jack." I sigh and rest my chin in the palm of my hand. "It's a good thing I still have my clothing on or you would be bleeding masterfully."

His nose twitches on one side in a distasteful way and his right shoulder follows suit with a small jerk. "Love, if ye didin't 'ave yer clothes on ye'd of agreed te let me take them off." This he says like the idea is completely natural. I guess it is if you look at it in the generality of all human nature collectively, but for me and him, it is anything but natural. Matter of fact, I have to concentrate very hard to refrain from hitting him. I don't respond to the question with words. Instead I give him a warning sideways glare. He ignores it and asks, "You feeling any better Melly?"

I blink a few times at the word, 'Melly,' but I reply, my heart softening a little at the question. "Yes. . . actually. Sometimes a girl just needs to cry I guess." I shrug and get up. "I'll see you later captain. I'm going to make breakfast." As I walk away I smile a little to myself at the memory of last night.

* * * * * *

"Hello Malcolm," I say slapping the tall blonde man on the back.

He gives a 'hiccough' noise and sputters a grudging, "Hello Captain." I know he's not particularly fond of me. But then not many people really are. Besides Mr. Gibbs that is.

Malcolm is standing a few short yards from the open galley door, and until I'd interrupted him he'd been staring shamelessly and Miss Harper's backside. The jealousy that has swelled within me is incredible and I find I'm rather ticked off, even if I'm not going to show it. I do however know that for her safety I can't let Malcolm get close to her. Especially _that_ way. The bastard is a snake. He's charming in his own right, and far too good looking. All this he uses to his advantage, weaving lies to make the woman he want's believe that he loves her before he forcefully has his bleeding way with her. I may be a pervert and a . . . well, I'm not sure what . . .but I'm most definitely not cruel. Physically hurting a woman is one thing I do not stand for. I won't let him, and if he manages something behind my back, I will personally send him to hell.

"So, what were ye doin' there Ray?" I ask sneakily, painting a rather fake grin on my face, making it seem like I'm conspiring with him here. He takes the bait and smiles back. He then nods toward Melody.

"She's a real beauty isn't she?" He asks me saucily and have to fight to keep from gagging as this sick grin spreads across his features. I can almost see what he's thinking from the look on his face. I'm starting to have the feeling I should have never allowed this man to join my crew. He is a very talented sailor, but. . . he's too talented.. As if I need that on top of everything.

"Aye, she is." I finally manage to get out. I wonder if I should let him know he's got competition or just warn her. Or neither. Or both.

I decide not to let him know. For now. Not with words anyway. I'll win her over and hopefully she wont drop me like an empty flour sack. I glance at her longingly then turn back to face Raymond Malcolm. I decide right here and now to give all my crew a semblance of payment tonight. In the from of food and alcohol. I grin at Malcolm and walk toward the galley confidently. He scowls deeply and I feel really rather proud of my performance. I give a little evil laugh before I enter the galley.

Melody jumps to high heaven when I sort of bound into the room. "Bloody Hell Jack! Why do you always have to scare the life out of me?!"

I just smirk with a bit of a cocky air and eye her from under my lids. She purses her beautiful lips and sighs through her nose. I chuckle and her face actually softens. She rolls her eyes and goes back to what she was doing. I step up behind her and peer over her shoulder, my eyes wide and brows high. She looks up at me from the corner of her eye, very close to truly annoyed now. "Do you need something or did you just come to drive me insane."

"Insanity is questionable in your case already deary." She scowls but doesn't respond and I continue, "Actually love, I have a proposition to make to ye."

She turns around and pushes me backward a step as I was still standing very close to her. Her face has turned a deep shade of crimson and it's so thoroughly enchanting. "Really? Well, spit it out then. If it has anything to do with sex you can forget it."

Now I roll my eyes. "Love, with the way you keep bringing it up ye'd think it was _you_ who wanted _me_."

Her jaw drops a bit and I inwardly snicker. "No, actually, it has more to do with food than sex. One-hundred percent food, really. No sex."

She relaxes visibly and looks interested now. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans all her weight on one foot causing her hip to swing out, which makes my face go relatively hot. Curse those amazingly, gorgeous hips of hers. "I can handle food." She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

"Well, I'd like to give the men a bit of party. To boost morale and such. It's been a while since they've gotten anything good, or seen much excitement. I was just thinking perhaps ye could make something delicious for said occasion."

"Sure." Is all she says before she turns back to what she'd been doing.

"That's it?" He furrow my eyebrows.

"Yes. I'll do it. Even with the limited resources. Now scram. This room is too small to have you in here while I'm working. " She shoo's me with her hands till I step out of the room, feeling rather perplexed. That was easy.

* * * * * *

Later that day I scan the horizon carefully and find it empty. Satisfied I peer into the galley and my eyes go wide to see a massive platter of biscuits stuffed with shredded fish and some sauce I can't name. They smell wonderful.

I turn to look at Melody and find her smirking at me, obviously proud of herself. "It's not much. If we had the traditional fixings, I could do wonders. But, it's more than they usually get. And they're really quite good. My mum used to make those."

"It's brilliant. May I get the first taste?"

"You may. I get a raise for this right? I've been in here all day without a break. I think I deserve to be paid for your kidnaping ventures. " I look at her and realize her hair is falling out, the wisps hanging around her eyes in perfect ringlets. There's a sheen of sweat over her brow and she's covered in flour. I grin at her. She's only more attractive. "Of course love. I'll round up a few pounds for you." She smiles.

I pick up a little biscuit and pop it into my mouth. "Bloo'y Hewl!" I say with my mouth full. "Amazing."

"That's right." She smirks. "Thank you."

I walk back outside and shout. "Oi! Boys, drag out a keg of rum and Thomas get your fiddle. Melly's made us a snack." There's a cheer from the men and I grin, hoping this will keep me from being marooned for a little big longer at least.

For hours there's dancing and drinking. Melody stays in the shadows away from the crowd, trying to be inconspicious. As night begins to fall, things start to quiet. The one keg I allowed out is put away. I made it clear I wanted them sober for the night in case something were to sneak up on us. However no one seems eager to go off to bed. They're finishing off the food and a few men are telling stories. I sit down on a crate and listen, realizing I'm hearing Malcolm speak.

". . .massive piles of magic treasure. There's supposedly objects that can make you live forever. Objects to make you younger, or give you fantastic powers. And the moneys' worth, beyond imagining. Only problem is no human can get to it."

"Why not?" Young Calvin asks. I shift a little closer, listing. My interest perked by 'make you live forever.'

"The Mer people hid it under the sea. Leagues and leagues under the sea. You'd drown before you got there. Ye'd have to heave gills." I swallow hard and turn to look at Melody. She has the key. . .

I look down, thinking hard. Everything falls apart in the second that it falls together. I could have it. I could be free from death.

She'd never give it to me. . .she'd never help me there.

_But what about. . .?_

_No. That cause is hopeless anyway. Look at you Jack. .._

_I know. . .but. Maybe?_

_Be logical mate. . ._

I sigh. Then I scowl. I feel something inside me tear into two and click out of place. Guilt settles in. I'm not even sure for what. A sick feeling of dread, but of excited fury swells inside of me. I'm eager and terrified, for something is coming. Something that will be terrible and magnificent all at once. I can't help a smile. Thought I'm not really sure for what. Because the dread is closing in like a tidle wave.

_**A/N: Till next time!**_


	11. Calvin's Advice

_**A/N: I've finally updated people! Aren't you proud of me? And I'm on a role. I've outlined this and I'm 90% certain I know where I want to take it so I should be updating more often if life cooperates with me. Also, just to note, Jack's POV (point of view ;) ) will come up more often as the story takes a shift. Not that you're complaining, right? So, when there's italics at the beginning of a paragraph it's going into Jack's POV. I'll try to keep it in Mel's as much as possible, as she's really my main character here, but Jack get's to weasel in quite a bit. **_

_**Anywho, enjoy! Meet Calvin, I love him. And don't hurt me when you get to the end of chapter 12. Please Reveiw if you have the time. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks guys!  
**_

**Chapter Eleven**

_**Calvin's Advice**_

I haven't seen Jack all day, not up close anyway. Or all night. I went to bed late, but half expected to find him next to me when I woke up. I would have been okay with that, considering that I'd slept in the same bed with him the night before. But he wasn't there. I saw him from a distance several times but never spoke to him. Almost every time I've seen him he's with the cabin boy Calvin. I realize I've seen them together often, usually laughing hysterically and chatting like best mates. Despite their age difference they seem to be close. I smile to myself, knowingly. Jack had at least one friend, despite his adamance that he didn't. I push the thought of that previous conversation away. It's not exactly a comfortable memory.

The crew's been in good spirits and the tension between all of them collectively, and in myself, seems to have dissipated. For the moment at least.

I close the galley door and head across the starlit deck to the captains cabin. I smile to find Jack sitting at his desk. He's leaning back looking thoughtful and distant. It's odd to see him that way, as it almost seems out of character. He smiles at me briefly when I come in and I return it sincerely. No words are exchanged and he's back to staring into nothing within a few seconds. I wait for a moment and as I do I become aware of a tenseness in the air around him. He's thinking too hard, and he seems distracted.

"Jack? Are you alright?" I ask quietly.

He looks up and his eyebrows raise just a fraction as if the question surprises him. He smiles and shakes his head like he's shaking off an annoying nat. "Of course love." He waves his hand nonchalantly and stands up. "Tired, I'spose."

His tone doesn't convince me but I don't dare delve. I don't know him well enough to do that. "Okay, well, I'm off to bed. . ." I say, feeling awkward for some reason.

He looks up at me and there's a flicker in his eyes like guilt, but it vanishes and I shake it off. I'm being silly and seeing things. I'm sure he'll be back to normal tomorrow. "G'night then." He nods with a hint of a smirk that's more like him.

"What?" I ask in a teasing tone, "No begging me to stay and make love to you?"

He grins wryly. "Did you want me to beg?"

I roll my eyes and head for his cabin and the bed. "Goodnight Captain Jack."

"G'night Melly." He waves me off, chuckling to himself softly. I close the door behind me and fall into the bed, happily letting sleep overtake me.

* * * * * *

_I sit back _down in my seat after she leaves the room look up as the door opens and Calvin, my cabin boy comes in timidly. I smile at him genuinely glad to see him.

"Ello Calv's. How may I help you."

"Hey, Cap'n," he says in his lower-class, clipped British. I like the way his voice sounds. "Jist though' I'd come in and say 'allo." He smiles and shakes the dark blond curls out of his face.

"Well sit down," I motion to the armchair and he plops into it. He's only fifteen but I feel closely connected to him. He's an old soul, wise for his age.

"Got anythin' interestin' for me te read today?" I've been teaching him to read and I stand eagerly to pull out a large volume.

"I do. I think it's time you started into the more difficult stuff." His face falls and I chuckle. I hand him the volume and he reads slowly, "Shake-spear?"

"Yep." I sit back down at my desk. "The complete works, it says anyway. Get going."

He sighs and opens the book and starts reading, his hazel eyes squinting in concentration. I smile and turn back to my work. Around midnight he shuts the book and looks up at me.

"You been awful quiet today, Cap'n."

I glance at him and back to my desk. He's one of the few people that can really read me. And one of the few people I trust. Not completely of course, but more than any other soul on earth at the moment.

"You okay?"

"I dunno. . ."

"You like 'er don't yeh?" He's smirking.

"What would know about it?" I wryly ask him.

"I kin tell."

"How? you're gay. How do you know I like her."

He laughs softly, "Just cause I'm gay doesn't mean I don't know what that look you give her means. I know you're looks Cap'n Jack. I know 'em like the back of me hand."

I swallow hard and glare at him, pushing away thoughts I know I need to stop entertaining.

"It doesn't matter if I like her or not Calvin, I'm not looking for a permanent relationship. I"m looking for eternal life and piles of gold and. . .and. . . all the things in life that most deem impossible to catch." I look down and scowl thoughtfully before I continue, "But I think I know how to get them."

He doesn't respond and I look up. He's staring at me intently with one corner of his mouth twitched up in dismay and disapproval. It's amazing how a fifteen year old boy can make me feel small, but not belittled.

"Cap'n, tell me, what good does eternal life and pile of gold do you if yer all alone?"

I furrow my brows further and state sharply, "She's not for me Calvy. And don't you push it."

He makes a tsk noise and shakes his head. "Cap'n, you can lie to yerself all ye like, but you can't fool me. An' you know it. You know I know you, and you can't quit me. I'll back you up, you know I will, always. But don't do something ye'll regret. Got me?"

I stare at him deeply for a long moment, knowing full well he's right. He's always right. He always has been.

"I can't make you any promises today Calvin." I say solemnly as I lean forward in my chair and bow my head. He's the only one who's seen me like this out of all my crew. And maybe Melody. I'm not sure when or if I have let my guard down in front of her. I recall her asking me about a nightmare, which means she must've seen my dreaming somewhere. I shudder at the thought.

"That means you can't keep it." He sighs and stand's up. "Just remember one thing then Jack," I look up as he rarely calls me that. He always calls me Captain. "When you have eternal life and a pile of gold, but nobody to love you, you'll still have a hard time sleeping, and when you manage to, you'll still waking screaming wishing somebody could help you, wishing you had somebody to share all you found with."

I glare at him, but I have no retort. The damn boy knows me too well.

"I don't know exactly what th' issue is Cap'n, but I know you've got at least one. . . and they only go away when you 'ave somebody close."

I look away from him and my face heats with shame. Only because I know what he's thinking and I know he's right. And because I know I won't listen to a word he's saying. My minds made up. Maybe the rest will find a way to work out. But I doubt it. I've come to accept some things to be, for the rest of my life. Even if that's forever.

I don't respond and he puts the book down and leaves the cabin. I listen to the door close softly and I stand up and kick my boots off. I slump onto the rug and pull the blanket up over me. I sigh and close my eyes, a familiar ache coming over me. I feel my day-time doppelganger, the one who holds my well practiced mask in place, crumble. I swallow hard and will sleep to come to me, only because I need it. Not because I want it.

Because Calvin's right. I'll either wake up screaming or sweating or gasping, or all of the above. I haven't woke up screaming in months, not since before I 'kidnaped' Melody. But I've woke up gasping and sweating ninety percent of the time. The same damn nightmare never fails to plague my sleep.

I will myself to think of something, anything but the nightmare and thoughts of Melody push their way into my mind. I fall asleep quickly pretending I'm someone else, someone who doesn't have my issues, as Calvin so delicately put it.


	12. A Good Liar

**Chapter Twelve**

_**A Good Liar**_

"I to'd yeh to move the seven!" Calvin laughs behind me and I growl playfully at him.

"You lost! You lost! You bloody lost solitaire!"

"Oh stop it!" I smack his hand playfully away from me and he yelps with a boyish giggle, making him look very silly.

"I have every right not te stop it." He grins at me. "Miss Harper, you lost solitaire." He laughs at me and I throw a handful of cards at him.

"I'd like to see you do better!" He ducks as the cards flutter around him, snapping in the air and floating to the floor.

"Alright, I will." He begins to gather them up and shuffle them. He lays down all the cards and begins to play, and within 5 minutes he's won.

"Damn you," I hit him playfully and he laughs infectiously.

I get up to put the dry pans away and he goes to leave. "Calvin," I call after him. He stops and turns.

"Yeah?"

"I see you with Jack a lot, you seem close."

He furrows his brows suspiciously, but if I'm not mistaken there's a hint of a smile on his face. "You'd be right. We are."

"He seems closer to you than anyone else on board.," I hedge.

"He is. Doesn't trust much of anybody."

"Why you?"

Calvin smiles almost sadly and I'm given some insight into Captain Jack, "Cause I don't judge the past or the present. He's got secrets, and I don't ask unless he want's to tell." With that he turns and walks away, obviously feeling like he said to much. But there's a little bounce to his step that makes me wonder. . .

I sigh and shake it off. I hang the pans up on their hooks and head out onto the deck. Jack's pointing a threatening finger at one of the crew members and shouting something. I move in closer and catch him in the middle of a sentence.

". . .you let them get that close again and I'll string you up and have you lashed. That ship could blow us to smithereens given the chance. It's a damn good thing the _Pearl_ is faster. Now get back up there and take this with you. Use it this time!" He shoves a small silver spyglass into the sailor's hands. The man nearly drops the thing in his nervous haste to take it and get back into the crow's nest.

Jack glares up after him and shakes his head. His jaw is set in a rigid line and I can see it twitching slightly. "Jack, what's going on?"

Calvin pipes in with a, "Oh, we only almost got run down by the Dauntless, because Connor up there wasn't paying attention. We're faster, and we've gotten out of their sight again, issue is, Norry's huntin' Jack down and now they, and him, meaning Norry, know we're close. If we'd seen it–"

Jack wops him upside the back of his head and Calvin swats his hand away with an, "Ow! Bloody 'ell Cap'n. . ." he rubs the sore spot glaring at Jack.

Jack goes on, "If we'd have seen them first we could've moved out of sight faster. I hope they didn't get a close enough look at us to know it was the _Pearl_, but she's rather unmistakable." His voice is gravely and irritated.

"Can't we just fight back and kick their asses?" I ask almost timidly.

Jack rolls his eyes as Calvin opens his mouth to speak. Jack glares at him and the boy shuts his mouth but sniggers. "We could," Jack says, "But the Dauntless is bigger and has a helluvalot more guns. The navy men are idiots in my opinion, but there's a ripe few who actually know how to aim. I'd really rather not risk losing any of my men, or risk having my ship blasted into oblivion when there's nothing in it for us _if_ we do come out on top."

"Okay. . . so we're possibly being followed by a British Naval vessel with someone on board, Norry? I presume, who want's you, Jack, dead and or captured?"

Calvin nods and Jack grinds out a grudging, "Yes. . ." between clenched teeth.

I furrow my brows as I take this in. So far life aboard the Pearl has been reasonably calm. There has been drama and awkwardness, and downright weirdness. But other than the zombie-mermaid incident there has been no threat to anybody's life. We haven't even had a bad storm, yet. . .

There has been no pillaging, plundering, murdering, or stealing, or anything that I've heard of pirates doing. I'm not complaining, but I find it odd.

I look at Jack out of the corner of my eye. He's sort of wandered half-way to the rail and is staring out to sea in the direction I assume the other ship is in. His brow's are knitted and his lip keeps twitching. He's swaying weirdly again, but it's very slight.

I wonder why he hasn't instigated any pirate-y things. It's a very curios thing to have a pirate who doesn't do anything pirate-y. I glance past Jack toward the horizon and feel my nerves tighten a little. I don't want there to be an attack. I don't want to end up dead or have any of these men end up dead. I don't want to watch them murder and steal and what-not. I look at Calvin who's coiling some rope across the deck. He doesn't seem the kind of person to do the things pirates do. The majority of these men don't seem the type. Jack doesn't seem the type.

I"m so confused.

Perhaps I'm blinded by what I want to think and believe. Jack, and these men, seem nice enough. Hell, Jack's been downright tender at moments. . . but that doesn't mean they, and him, are not blood thirsty, treasure obsessed, scallywags that would as soon cut your throat as they would save your life. I don't know them.

I don't know Jack.

This saddens me.

I look up and snap out of my thoughts when I see him stride into his cabin with long loping steps. He seems agitated. I follow him.

When I step inside he's tossing his hat onto his desk and shrugging out of his coat. He slumps into his chair behind his desk and lets out a long slow breath.

"You alright?" I ask quietly. He looks up as I shut the door behind me.

He lifts his hand and rubs a thumb over his temple before he nods kind of sideways. "I will be love." He shrugs and grins at me.

"You're a bad liar, you know."

He scowls, quite deeply.

"I always thought I was a rather good liar."

I can't help a giggle as I sit down in the armchair. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you are terrible in my opinion."

"Well," he teases, "so are you, so I guess we're square deary."

I smile and roll my eyes with a sigh.

"Jack?" I ask as I relax and close my eyes. "Why don't you do pirate-y things?"

He chuckles and my eyes come open. He's looking at me from under his brows with a smirk on his face and mirth in his eyes. They're flickering with the candle-light and the shadow's on his face are striking. My heart starts racing and I look away from him in attempt to calm it.

"Pirate-y things, like what Melly?"

"Well," I close my eyes and bring my knees up against my chest where I hug them, "Like pillage, and raid ships and such."

He chuckles very low in his throat and says, "That's a secret love."

"Why haven't you been marooned. I mean, surely. . ." I yawn and continue, "Surely your men want to be paid."

"They do get paid. Every two weeks."

"Do I get to get paid every two weeks now?"

I hear him stand up and I open my eyes. He reaches into a drawer and pulls something out before he tosses it at me. I jump and my feet move back to the floor before the envelope lands in my lap. I snatch it up and open it to find two one-hundred pound notes. "Oh my. . ." I gasp. "Jack! That's a lot of money."

"For you," he sits down and waves his hand nonchalantly.

"But you can't possibly affor—"

"Yes, I can," he interrupts. "It's not a big deal. Trust me." He goes on to mumble something else under his breath that sounds distinctly sarcastic, but I don't catch more than 'God knows' and 'too much.'

"Okay," the word comes out sounding rather mousy so I clear my throat and lean back in the chair again. "Thank you."

"Welcome." He nods as he drops back into his chair. I sit in awkward silence for a minute before he stands again. The next thing I know he's sitting on the couch across from me and he has this sort of serene look on his face. I feel my nerves string up and my throat close off as my heart does a slight flip. Something about his demeanor is distinctly different than I've ever seen it.

It's scaring the hell out of me and I think I might vomit. Or squeal, or scream, or laugh. . .or something.

All I manage to do is sit and stare at him wide eyed, feeling distinctly tense at the tense expectancy in the air. He is going to do something, I'm just not sure what. Suddenly he leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees. He's staring at me with a little smirk and he looks amused. I search his face but find it unreadable beyond that.

"Uhm. . . " I say rather stupidly and Jack simply stands up half-way and reaches his hand behind my head, drawing me toward him. My eyes go wide as my lips meet his. His kiss is slow, but feverish and I quickly melt into it unable to keep my body from going semi-limp. I slide off of the chair and into a kneeling position, right into Jack's arms. He cradles me closer and kisses me deeper. I drop the money and reach my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in his dread locks.

Finally he sets my lips free and I tilt my head back to gasp for air.

"Melly," He sighs against my throat and I close my eyes and smile.

"Yes Jack?"

His fingers find mind and he threads them together with a mellow chuckle. "I like you. . . a lot."

It wasn't exactly what I would've liked to hear, but I smile anyway. Jack isn't exactly, in general, the tender type. There was the one moment, and maybe there will be more. I hope so.

"I like you too. A lot." I lean back a little to look at him and a shadow flickers through his eyes, but only just. It disappears into his smile as he reaches his thumb up to rub it across my lips. He leans in and gives me a quick kiss before he stands up and pulls me with him. He bends down and picks up the money which he hands to me. Then he proceeds to scoop me into his arms and head straight for the other room. . . and the bed.

"Jack!" I squeal and squirm. "Just because I like you doesn't mean. . ." I fall onto the bed and he falls next to me. . ."that I will sleep with you!"

"Love, you've already slept with me. You just 'aven't made love to me."

I swallow and give him a dubious look. "Yes. . ."

"I had no intention of taking your virtue. Do you. . .never mind," he says with a soft expression and a smile..

I smile slightly. "What? Do I what?"

"Never mind love." He laughs nonchalantly and waves it off. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up but he smiles and kisses my nose and they lay back down. I shake it off and nod. "Okay. . .okay. . ."

He smiles back and tosses his hat and boots off before he proceeds to pull my boots off and pull me into his arms. He relaxes and I slowly do the same, enjoying being close to him. I eventually manage to suppress the giddiness enough to drift to sleep.

* * * * * *

_Melody drifts to sleep in my arms_. When I'm sure she's asleep, I reach behind her neck and unhook the chain holding the unicorn. I slip it off carefully and put it in the pocket of my waistcoat. Guilt washes over me so intensely that I feel my throat start burning with emotion. I'm so angry at myself it's overwhelming.

I pulled her in, I gave her the bait to see if she'd take it. And she did. She likes me, at least. This woman whom I almost feel like I could give my life to actually likes me, and only moments after I've learned this, I've betrayed her. I lied to her, not with words. Everything I said was true. But my actions, my actions just now, were the biggest lie of all. And I know now, that to speak truth and lie with actions, is the worst kind of lie, in every way.

I look at my options. I could give it back. She'd never know, and we could maybe start a life together.

As these thoughts filter through my mind immediately they are overpowered with an insuppressible fear. The thought of dying, dying at all, in any way absolutely terrifies me. More than the thought of living alone.

The horror of the thought, of meeting the devil himself, and the man that spawned my existence. . . I gag briefly and cough softly.

I can't do it.

Not even for her.

The selfish guilt comes back and I snarl to myself quietly. The feeling and my conscious are no good to me. I was born into what I was born into, and I was born who and what I am. There is nothing that can change that.

It's for her own good too. I'm not the man she's looking for. I'd only hurt her, more than I just did. Because she will find out eventually. She can't though, not yet. Not till I'm far away from her.

Which means now. . .I have to get rid of her.

And fast.


	13. Your Own Hell

_**A/N: Okay kids! Next chapter, and you're all going to shoot me. Just so you know, I'm trying to achieve two things with this fic. One is this nifty plot I've set up of trying to find this treasure and such, with an awesome villain etc. Alas, I'm a very analytical person and people fascinate me. You've all probably noticed that Jack's personality seems a bit wonky. He sort of shifts from his cheerful, crazy, self to this brooding angry person. There is a reason for that. Pay attention, I'm dropping hints like crazy! But it will all come together. Be faithful and you will be rewarded. Also, no, Davy Jones is not his dad. ; ) But you'll be introduced to the man later. Sort of. **_

_**Read on! And enjoy! Thank you to everybody! **_

_**PS. I wrote this chapter super fast, but it was super hard for me. I just learned a lot about Calvin, my little cabin boy character. I Love him.**_

_**OH! And I am an artist. I have pics of Jack and Melody up on my DA gallery. Copy and paste the links to your browser and remove the spaces between the words. I had to do that or they wouldn't show up on here. You can go to my profile page and there's a link there too. Go check them out if you'd like! . I also have one or two of Calvin in there.. . as a side note. ;)  
**_

_**This is my main gallery: **_www . astriex . deviantart . com_**  
**_

_**This is the link to the Charmed Life Folder, bear in mind, some of these images only relate in a general sense and are move from RP's than this story. I do hope to do more illustrations strictly to go along with this fic: **_www. astreix .deviantart .com /gallery/#Charmed-Life

_**And this is the Jack Sparrow Folder, a lot of images in here are also in the Charmed Life folder, so there will be some repeats:**_www. astreix . deviantart. com /gallery/#Jack-Sparrow

_**Tell me what you think if you go take a look! Thanks again! Onward!**_

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**Your Own Hell**_

The morning sunlight spilled through the windows and filtered through my lids with

pearly yellow light. I stretched and turned over expecting to find Jack. But he wasn't there. I sat up and looked around and my eyes found him sitting in the chair at the small writing desk across the room. His shoulders are slumped slightly and he's got his head leaning into one hand. He looks tired. Downright exhausted really.

"Good morning." I say timidly. He jerks his head up and turns around.

"Oh, good morning love." He stands up with a smile and moves across the room toward me. He bends down and kisses me quickly. "You sleep good?"

"Yes, I did. I would ask you the same but it's rather obvious that you didn't."

"How very observant of you," He says sarcastically. His tone is subtly biting.

I scowl. "What's the matter with you?"

He closes his eyes and sits down on the edge of the bed. "Sorry love," He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, just tired."

I sigh and stand up. "I'm going to cook breakfast. When you decide to face the world and be happy about it come see me."

He watches me put my boots on with tired eyes. I turn to leave the room but his hand snags my wrist. I turn back around and find him standing close to me. His face has softened, he looks a bit sad. But a small smile touches the corners of his mouth as he reaches up and touches my face tenderly. "I'm sorry Melody," he says almost passionately. There's a hint of a deeper meaning in his words. But that's ridiculous.

"Jack," I reach up and touch his face too, "It's alright. A bit of grumpiness is nothing to get so worked up over. It's alright," I repeat.

He nods and pulls me into a hug, "I know," is all he says.

I furrow my brows with my cheek pressed against his shoulder. He feels tense, so unlike yesterday. He's acting strange. Too serious and too melancholy.

Perhaps it's just a mood. I shake it off and pull back with a sincere smile at him. He really is more insecure than I thought. There's more behind those eyes than he'd like to let on. Maybe we can help each other. Maybe this will become something bigger. . .

My face goes a little warm and my smile broadens. "I'll see you later Captain."

With that I turn and leave the room.

* * * * * *

_It amazes me how naive she is._ Her innocence is so beautiful, but so dangerous. The sick knot in my stomach tightens. I'm a bloody bastard, to take advantage of that innocence so severely.

It only proves what kind of man I am. I close my eyes, hoping that after she's away from here, after I've removed her from my presence, that she'll find a better life. Even without her little key.

But how do I get her gone. We're so far from land. I'm not thinking straight. I shouldn't have done this yet.

I swallow and start to pace. I have nowhere to take her. I need a miracle, or she's going to find that the necklace is missing.

The day drags by. The ship is moving slowly in slow wind on dead water. Everything is done.

I amble back and forth on the deck watching for the Dauntless. It seems we've lost her, but I almost wish we hadn't. I shake my head to rid myself of the thoughts trying to sneak in. I spend a good chunk of the day playing Black Jack with Calvin, laughing through my teeth.

The necklace in my pocket weighs a ton.

Just before dinner I move back into my cabin and sit at my desk where I stare aimlessly at the flickering candle I'd lit. Twilight cloaks the sea as I listen to the men jeering with Melody as she calls them all to dinner. Any minute now she's going to walk in here with my dinner and I don't think I can stand to be alone with her. I sight and rub my temples, almost feeling like I could doze off.

I jump out of my lethargic state at the sound of a distant, "Holy Hellfire! SHIP!"

Several of the men echo who I assume was Connor from the crows nest. That must've been one hell of a yell, because I heard it all the way down here, shut in a room. I jump to my feet checking that I have my effects.

What I find outside the door makes my heart pound into my chest with horror and hope all at once. I am truly a bastard.

There is a ship, a ship I've never seen before, looming only yards from us. She slides right up next to us and lines are thrown over immediately.

My men have drawn swords and pistols, but haven't had time to do anything else. The damn thing came out of nowhere. I snarl to myself, up toward Connor in the nest. I'll have his head.

I move into the crowd of my crew and draw my own sword. A man on the other ship holds up his hand and his men stop. "Hello!" He calls over. His voice is smooth and carries well. I detect a great deal of arrogance wafting off of him.

No one responds to him.

"Where's your Captain?" His accent is distinctly Irish, but there's a hint of Welsh and English on it.

"Here," I say loudly. "You are?"

He chuckles and puts two fingers up to his hat in a salute, however sarcastic. "Dillon, Aramis Dillon."

I raise my eyebrow and look at my men who shrug and snigger. "Never 'eard of you."

He scowls and I'm reminded of myself in an odd sort of way. "That's too bad Captain Jack, as I've heard of you. I've heard much about you. And it so happens you've got something I'm looking for."

_Great. . ._

"Really? And what might that be, Mis-ter Dillon?"

His lip twitches in disgust and he drawls, "Captain, sir, if you'd oblige me. And that would be a certain young lady. I believe they call her Melody."

My stomach tightens and I feel a hand grab my coat, "Captain!" A voice behind me whispers in upset tones. It's Calvin. I grind my teeth.

"And what makes you think I've got her?"

He laughs, and all his men follow suit. He stops abruptly. "Probably because she's standing three feet behind you." I close my eyes and turn around to glare at Melody. Her eyes are wide with confusion, and alarm.

I step forward and shake Calvin off of me. I lean forward rather drunkenly and say very animatedly, "And what exactly did you need 'er for? She's rather busy really."

His face falls most unimpressed. "I'm afraid she'll have to drop whatever she's doing. But she seems rather stationary to me."

I swallow, knowing full well this is going to be too easy for him. Because I'm going to make it easy. "What did you need 'er for?" I repeat.

"She's got something I need. A few things actually. And if you hand her over quietly we'll be off and leave you in peace. Despite the fact that I'm ninety percent certain you killed my wife."

I scowl, taken aback. "Don't 'ave a clue who yer wife is, but sure, you can 'ave her."

I wave my hand. I hear her choke behind me and Calvin jumps on my arm. "Captain!" He shouts, "What the bloody he–" I shove him off and nod at Malcolm. "Shut him up will you?"

Malcolm grabs Calvin and slaps a hand over his mouth. Calvin squirms and his eyes tear up with confusion. I turn and move to Melody, who's rooted to the spot. I don't look at her as I grab her wrist and lead her to the rail. Captain Dillon has laid a board across to meet with the Pearl and I push Melody up onto it.

"Jack!" She cries. She grabs at my arm and pushes at me, clawing almost violently. "Jack! What are you doing? You can't. . .why. . .I don't. . ." her voice falters as I look up at her.

"I'm sorry," I repeat in much the same tone I'd used earlier. "But some things just can't be helped. And some people just can't change."

She stares at me as tears well up in her eyes, spilling over and falling. Her face is contorted with terrified confusion and pain. The full weight of her feelings toward me come out in her eyes and I do my best to block it out. "I'm not worth it," I mutter almost angrily.

One of Dillon's men has climbed onto the plank and has walked over. He grabs Melody's other wrist and yanks her none to gently away from me. "C'mon."

"JACK!" She screams and tries to pull away from him, obviously not caring if she falls into the sea. I turn around and head for my cabin. "Jack! You abhorrent bastard!" She sobs. I close my eyes against her voice and will myself to keep walking. "I hate you! I hate you, you filthy, ugly monster! I hate you! You snake, you fu–" Someone shuts her up and I hear Dillon call, "Thankee Jack!" The plank is removed and so are the lines. The other ship pulls away and I hear her scream and cry in the distance.

I slam the door to my cabin just as Malcolm lets Calvin go.

He runs after me and throws the door open. "You bastard. You bloody just. . .just. . .let her. . . let them!" He's barely breathing as he paces and flails his arms with his anger. "How dare you?! I thought I knew you! You're better than that! You may claim to be a pirate, but I know you! What's possessed you? A DEVIL!?" He shouts.

I wince and turn on him. I grab his collar and hold onto him tight, bringing his face close to mine. "Shut up Calvin! Shut up!"

I throw him away from me and he staggers sideways before he regains his balance. He starts to cry and I growl.

"What happened to you Jack?" He asks quietly.

I turn again and sneer, "Yes, Calvin. I'm possessed. It just seems that the Demon that's held me since birth has finally awoken inside of me."

"You're not him! Whoever the hell he is, you're not him!" He shouts at me.

"Shut up boy," I point a threatening finger at him, only to have him slap it aside.

"No! I will not shut up. I'm not your cabin boy today, I'm your friend, and I'm telling you, you don't have to do this! You don't have to be what you think you are. People can change!"

"No! Not this time. I do have to do this, because I cannot and will not face death. I will not lose all that I've worked for only to fall back into his hands!"

His face reddens with fury and he screams, "You're so blinded by your fear that you can't see what you're doing to yourself. Every step you take to run away from your most feared demise is only taking your closer to it!"

"You don't even know what I'm afraid of Calvin, how can you stand there and tell me things like that? You have no idea what's going on inside of me!"

"On don't I?" He growls. "I know you better than you think. You're one big clue, and you drop hints like lost puppy. You want somebody to find you and save you. You just don't consciously realize it! I know you think those scars on your back tell you who you are. And I know you think that you're just like whoever the hell put them there! And I know that you're scared to die because you think you'll go to hell, but you don't want too. Because deep down inside of you, you want to be a good person. And I know that you named this ship after somebody you loved, and that you miss her, and that you want to be what she'd want you to be. Well let me tell you something, _SIR_, you've failed her now! You just forked over exactly what you've been searching blindly for and now you're going to find your stupid treasure, but you're going to rot in it! Because people can't live all alone and be happy! Life and gold are meaningless without someone to share them with." I feel myself shrinking beneath his words, stunned to silence at how right he is in every way, at how well he's got me figured out. He starts to cry harder as he continues, "So while you're living forever and all of us, the people you care about start to get old and die, and you're left all alone, I hope you remember this conversation. And I hope then you realize you built your own hell. You laid it down brick by brick. And the mortar you used to stick them together with was fear, and you know what fear does, _Captain_? It destroys people! You've destroyed yourself!" He gasps after he finishes and stares at me, waiting for a response.

"Get out. . ." I choke.

"Fine," he snarls. And he turns to go, slamming the door behind him.


	14. Forsaken

_**A/N: I've written a lot! Chapter dump coming up! :) Please leave me reviews, they help me want to write more and get it up sooner for you my dear readers. Enjoy mates. Sorry for the long wait. **_

**Chapter Fourteen**

_**Forsaken**_

_Where are we? What the hell is going on?_

_The dust has only just begun to fall, crop circles in the carpet._

_Sinking feeling._

_Spin me around again, and rub my eyes, this can't be happening. . ._

_. . . oily marks appear on walls where pleasure moments hung._

_Before the take over, the sweeping insensitivity of this_

_still life. . . _

_. . . what did you say? That you only meant well? _

_Well of course you did. _

_That it's all for the best, of course it is. . . _

_. . .Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, _

_mid sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs._

_Speak, no feeling, no I don't believe you._

_You don't care a bit, you don't care a bit. . ._

_**Hide and Seek, by Imogen Heap**_

I stare, my mouth hanging open, barely aware of the hands gripping my arms tightly, as

the _Pearl_ sails in the opposite direction. He really just did that. The man I thought I was falling in love with, that I thought was falling in love with me, or in the very least cared about me, just handed me over to some brute he claims I have something he wants. Jack didn't even ask questions, not more than a couple. He didn't even try to protect me.

I recall hazily how he glared at me before he had just decided to give me away. There had been that brief second where I'd thought he was angry that I hadn't been hiding, because he wanted me safe. But then it changed, at the drop of a hat, with the exchange of a few short sentences.

Why? Have been blind? Naive no doubt. . . but. . .

I choke on my thoughts. Tears sting my eyes and my throat starts to close off and burn in humiliation and hurt. How could he do this to me?

I blink back the tears and snap out of my anguished thoughts when the captain of this new ship I'm on speaks. Aramis. . .

"Well, well, Miss Harper, we finally meet." He smiles at me from where he's standing three feet in front of me. A few sniggers ripple through his crew, surrounding us. I swallow at his stance, he's attempting to look welcoming, and he's far too cheerful. Like this is okay! This is okay!?

I close my eyes momentarily remembering how Jack had taken me away from what had been home, and how that wasn't okay. But the _Pearl_ was beginning to become home. And now I've been ripped from my roots again.

I open my eyes and give Aramis Dillon a blank expression. I can't speak, as my throat is still tight with emotion. I will myself to calm down and speak. "What is it exactly. . . that you want?" My voice is quiet, but I like to think it sounded strong.

He smirks sideways, but it makes me queasy. "Miss Harper, it is common knowledge among storytellers, and pirates, that there is a treasure. . ." my heart drops like a stone to the pit of my stomach. . . "that is the vastest in the world. It is also common knowledge, among said people, that to get to it one must have a key. A key that comes in the shape of a pendant, one that I'm quite certain, is in your possession."

I gather my courage and put on my skeptical face. "And what, sir, may I ask inclines you to believe such ridiculous stories?" I put a bit of laughter into the tone of my voice, praying it was convincing. Some of his crew shift uncomfortably, giving me the feeling that there are many skeptics on board. I feel hope, hope that maybe I can convince him, and his skeptical crew will do away with him and I can go back. . .no, not back there. Go back home to England, to my parents.

He just chuckles, in a way that would be good natured, but do to the situation I catch on quickly to the irritated and amused undertones that are arrogant and condescending. "My dear girl, do not play with me." His tone has taken on a hint of a threat. My only response is a steady glare.

"Why did you have to bring me with you? Why couldn't you have just taken the key and left me?" I ask evenly.

He smiles that crooked smile and replies, "Because I can't breathe underwater, unlike you."

I close my eyes briefly. How did he find all this out?

"You believe in mermaids?"

"I do."

"What proof do you have?" I ask haughtily, my hopes slowly slipping away.

He sighs and looks sideways as if remembering something," I was married to one. She showed me, and told me everything I needed to know."

I feel anger rise in me and I fight to remain calm. What sort of sister is this?! To betray us all? Her own kind?! "Where is your wife?" I ask cooly, "I'd like to speak to her."

He chuckles, "So you confirm it all. Thank you m'dear. Alas, I'm afraid you've already met her, and you won't be having the opportunity again."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"She came to fetch the necklace from you, but did not succeed. I found her body floating in the sea, she had a bullet hole in her."

"Oh god," I whisper, realizing who the brainless, shell of a mer was. I look back at his face in disbelief. He has no emotion about this.

"Yes, it was rather unfortunate," he waves it off. "I mean, if she'd gotten it then I could've had her get to all the riches, as she was a mer. And you would've been able to stay with your friends on the _Pearl_. We all could've been happy."

No mention that his wife would still be alive. No feeling even for the woman he was married to!

"You heartless snake," I mutter.

His hand comes out of nowhere and the back of it collides heavily with my face. I turn away, but it's too late. The sting is incredibly painful. My mouth is open in shock. I slowly turn back toward him, my eyes wide. Tears sting my eyes again and one of them slips out before I can blink it back.

"Do not," he points a threatening finger at me, "insult me. Now, where is it?"

I can't manage to speak, but I gather he'll figure it out. It's not like it's hard to figure where most people wear necklaces. My mind goes to it at my throat, it's warmth. . . and. . .

There's no warmth. No pressure where it usually sits. I look down suddenly, without thinking. Aramis takes this as an invitation. He steps forward and grabs the collar of my shirt, yanking it aside. He snarls.

"Not wearing it?"

I look up at him, wide eyed, and panicked. I never take it off. The clasp was secure, it couldn't have fallen. It never got caught on anything. . .

Someone must've taken it.

No one got close enough to. . .

"Oh my god," I gasp through thick emotion as it dawns on me with clarity. Painful clarity. "He took it. . ." I whisper almost silently.

"Who took it?" He grabs my arms and yanks me bodily away from the other man holding me. He shakes me violently and I cry out involuntarily.

"Jack," I squeak.

He growls and throws me away from him. I stagger backwards but fall despite my best efforts, landing heavily on the planks. I can't manage to bring myself to stand back up.

"Damnit!" He shouts before he turns back around to stare at me, furious. He takes a deep breath in through his nose before he sneers and mutters, "Ryn, Wesley, search her."

Two of his men, one being the big brute who'd dragged me over from the _Pearl_ and who had been holding me since moved in toward me. I jump to my feet, suddenly full of adrenaline. The looks on their faces are enough to make stomach roil. I feel as if I might vomit. They both have bared their teeth and are licking their lips crudely. A tiny ounce of relief washes over me as Aramis shouts, "Don't rape her."

They look disappointed, but don't stop their advance. They latch onto me and before I know it their hands are all over me, feeling my clothing and removing it, shredding through the fabric into every crevice searching violently for what I know is not there. I struggle and whimper, but cannot manage to come up with enough voice to scream. They take extra care to run their dirty hands over the places on my body that are most sensitive, the places that should have been off limits. When I'm sufficiently naked, violated and bruised, the two men toss me brutally to the deck. I scramble, tears running down my cheeks, to gather up enough fabric to cover myself. I kneel in the heap of the torn clothing, clutching it to me, my head bowed, shaking with silent sobs.

"It's not 'ere," The big pirate shouts angrily.

Aramis walks briskly toward me, an expression of ultimate loathing and rage etched onto his face. He grabs my wrist forcefully and jerks me to my feet. I stagger after him, clutching torn fabric around me, my sobs coming in audibly now. He pulls me after him and I can do nothing but follow. He drags me below deck and along a narrow hallway to the brig. As he unlocks the door to one of the cells, the smaller one, he yanks down on my wrist for the sheer sake of it. I stumble again just as the door creaks open and he pushes me forward, then kicks me in with his foot. I fall hard again onto the floor where I curl up and cry.

"Then we'll be going back for Captain Jack, and we'll kill him this time." I don't look at him as he speaks. But I doubt Jack'll be letting his guard down again. And the _Pearl_ is the fastest ship in the Caribbean. Even if they do catch up to him. . . I can't bring myself to feel sorry for his being killed.

I hear him walk away and momentary relief comes over me.

I cry hard for what seems like hours before I quiet to a limp daze. So fast. . . everything happened so fast. I don't understand why? Why was it so easy for Jack to just give me up? Was it an act, the kisses and the brief closeness?

And why did he take the necklace, the key? Was his tenderness imagined as a ploy to get what he wanted?

Anger starts to trickle in to coat my disbelief. I'm angry at myself for letting him get so close, for believing I could trust him. After all, he kidnapped me! He's a pirate! He's a snake and he'll do anything to get what he wants! I should have known that treasure and the sea would be more important than human affection! I should never have trusted him!

How dare he?! I snarl at nothing as my thoughts get out of control and my emotions along with them.

How dare he use me the way he did! Everything he did, and said was a lie! Every touch and every stupid kiss!

I spit subconsciously as bile rises in my throat. Everything that had been so wonderful was now disgusting and tainted. He played me, and like a fool I let him.

The anger fades to pain again and I start to cry, silent tears this time. I curl up tighter, holding tightly to what's left of my clothing.

I've never felt more alone in my life.

* * * * * *

It's been a week. I think. It feels like longer.

Some boy came down, a young boy, about sixteen, a few days ago to give me a skirt and a shirt. The shirt's huge on me and has a deep 'V' neckline, and I have to be careful to not let it slip and reveal anything.. It's a man's shirt, similar to the one's Jack wears. I shake him out of my thoughts.

I think of the boy who came down instead. He reminded me of Calvin. Except he was taller and leaner, but he's got the same golden curls atop his head. His eyes were green though, sort of a muddy green. Calvin's are more of a golden color, that can almost be green in the right light.

I sigh and bring my knees up to my chest where I sit in the corner on a small, crude cot that runs the length of the cell. It's really more a slab of wood on two more slabs of wood.

I shiver and my stomach growls. It's damp down here and it smells of mildew. It's rather putrid and quite nauseating combined with feeling the ships movements from a confined space. I wish I could see the sky. I miss the sky and the clean air so much.

I reach over and scratch my arm, only to feel salt flake off like dried blood. What I would give for a bath. Almost anything. . .

Almost. . .

I jump when I hear footsteps coming down my hallway. My whole body goes tense like it always does when someone is coming, for fear that it might be Captain Dillon, or one of the sailors that tore my clothes off. I sigh to myself when I see the lanky boy with the golden curls. He reminds of the one good thing on the _Pearl_. Calvin was easy to love.

The boy looks at me; his eyes are sort of hollow, like I feel. He smiles for a split second when my eyes meet his.

"I brought you a bit o' bread. . ." he practically whispers. His bony hand reaches in through the bars toward me, holding out the fist sized crust of bread. I stand up shakily, faint from the lack of food. I try not to look too eager as I take it from him.

"Thank you," I say back hoarsely. They haven't been good about a regular feeding schedule. I think I've eaten five times since I got on this ship, and it was never much. "Thank you so much."

"I'll try to bring you somthin' more often. . .I know they ain't be'in good abou' keepin' ye fed." He seems terribly timid.

I look up at him and smile the most genuine smile I can manage. "What's your name?"

He smiles back, a little. "Toby."

"Thank you Toby."

He nods and hurries away before I can say more. I sit back down and take a bite, willing myself to chew slowly. The stuff his awfully hard and not that appetizing, but I'm starving. When I finish it off I close my eyes and try to ignore the fact that my stomach is still growling.

And something tells me it's only going to stay this way. Even if Toby keeps bringing me food, it won't be much more, and I'm assuming he'll get into trouble if he's caught. I close my eyes and pray silently to myself, for the boy's safety. It's the least I can do, since he's risking himself on my behalf.

_**Please Leave a Review. I'd greatly appreciate feedback!**_


	15. Kevin

**Chapter Fifteen**

_**Kevin**_

A tall man, walks slowly up the street, surprisingly quiet on the cobbles. Even through

the dark one can pick him out. His skin is as pale as snow and his hair is such a light gold it's almost white. He walks into the Mermaids Tale, a tavern that until several weeks ago had a reputation for the best food in Tortuga. That is, until the cook disappeared.

The man moves into the room, his pale blue eyes scanning the place. Several people stare at him, as he's soaking wet, wearing nothing but a tattered pair of breeches, and he's barefoot.

A man in a long black cloak slides off a stool at the bar and moves toward the stranger.

"Link?" The pale man asks the man in the cloak.

The man in the cloak nods. "She told me Melody's on the _Black Pearl_. But of course, that was several weeks ago. Something might have changed in the time between when I spoke to her. Like I said, it's been several weeks."

The soaked man nods. "Thank you Link."

"You're always welcome, Kevin."

"Now, you're sure, The Pearl?"

"Wisdom doesn't lie. . . "

Kevin smirks and nods again. "I'm off then my friend."

He shakes the man in the cloak's hand and turns to go.

The cloaked man follows him out, but goes a separate way.

* * * * * *

_I jump awake gasping_, sweat dripping from my nose and beard. The image of Melody's terror stricken face is burned into my mind and has started filtering into my regular nightmares. I shudder and suppress the urge to vomit, trying to rid my mind of that image and the one of me. . . hovering over her, my knuckles spattered with her blood. The nightmare I'd been having for years has warped into a twisted version of the same thing, the same _memories_, only with different faces.

I turn around in the dark to find the cabin empty. Hastily I throw the blankets off as I move to the edge of my bed and sit. I suppress the urge retch and I blink several times to keep the tears I feel stinging the corners of my eyes from even welling. Never before in my life has guilt weighed me down so heavily. The physical pain I feel even thinking about her now is consuming me.

I groan and with discipline I slowly will myself to calm down and breathe evenly, forcing the images of her and my nightmare out of my head. I shake my head a little to clear it before I'm calm enough to just listen. The ship is silent, as it should be at this time of morning. I look at one of the windows and figure it to be three-ish in the morning.

I put my head into my hands and for a moment I begin to relax. Then the skin on the back of my neck prickles and all the tiny hairs on my neck and arms stand up. Slowly I lift my head up and swallow. As I turn my right ear, my good ear, to the side, toward the windows, I hear dripping. A sense of _de je vu_ washes over me and calmly I reach underneath my pillow to pull out my pistol.

"There's no need to shoot me. However, if you've harmed my daughter in any way, I might just shoot you." I jump wide eyed and turn, clutching the gun despite the warning. Standing near the open window by the writing desk is a man so pale he seems to glow in the dark. He's tall and slender, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a pair of ragged breeches and a small pouch tied to his hip. I swallow.

"Who are you?" I growl, aiming the pistol more carefully.

"My name is Kevin," his voice is quiet and smooth as honey. "Kevin Harper."

My heart falls to the pit of my stomach at the mention of his last name. I take in a sharp slow breath through my nose and let it out through my teeth. I lower the gun, despite the feeling of dread welling up inside of me. This man could very likely murder me when he finds out. . .

"You seem to recognize the name." His shoulders relax, ever so slightly.

"I recognize the name Harper," I murmur through the dark.

"Where is she then?" He asks expectantly.

I blink a few times, feeling my mouth go dry. Every limb goes heavy with the memory of who he's asking for and I drop the gun to the edge of the bed. I gather courage and whisper, barely audible to even myself, "She's gone."

"Gone?" he growls now, going visibly tense again. I nod. A frustrated, furious snarl slices through the night air as he flails his arms and whirls in a quick pace of anger.

"Light a candle," he grinds out and I do his bidding, feeling numb.

I turn around and face him, and I find myself staring into eyes as pale as a blue moonlight, even more shocking are the long sharply pointed ears. He stares down at me and I feel small in his company. He's tall, and he's overwhelming me with his very presence. Slowly he breathes in, like he's trying to be patient, trying to restrain himself.

"This is the _Black Pearl_, is it not?" I nod. "And are you not its captain?" I nod again. "I was told she was here. So what, pray tell, do you mean by gone, Captain?"

"I mean she's not here!" I snap in exasperation. "I mean she's no longer on this ship!"

"Then she was here?" He asks, sounding calm again. I stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out his mood changes, trying to figure my chances for getting out of this conversation unscathed, but I find him unreadable. This bothers me greatly. It's not hard for me to read people. Not usually. I try momentarily to will up my usual vigor, my witty nature in dealing with bad situations. I dig for the willpower to try to weasel my way out of this with fancy words and confusing hand gestures, but I come up short. I feel nothing but the familiar ache that's become my companion since Melody was forced from my ship. I feel nothing but self-loathing I know that I'm undeserving of anything but to let this man do what he wills with me. I am at his mercy and for the first time in my life, I'm giving in to a sense of my own demise.

"Yes, she was," I answer finally, softly now.

"Did she leave of her own accord?" He sounds hopeful.

I close my eyes and my head drops down just a little in defeat. "No. . . she didn't. I'm sure she would've much rather stayed here then go where she went."

He scowls and whispers, the venom in his voice clearly discernible, "What the hell happened?"

I find the numbing of my charisma complete and I cannot bring myself to open my mouth and tell him the story I don't even want to think about. He steps forward suddenly and fear seizes me and I tense, crumpling to the floor, my nightmare jumping out of my head and into reality with unreasonable clarity. I fight for the split second before he grabs the collar of my shirt to will away the fear and act like a man, but the child inside of me is too close to the surface and all I can do is cry out as he hauls me to my feet.

"What have you done to her you fool!?" He screams in my face and I jump, trying desperately, blindly to pull away from him. He shakes me violently and images of a crumpled body with black hair strewn over a blood spattered tile floor flicker through my mind.

"I took it!" I shout in desperation, anything to make him let go of me.

His eyes narrow and his thin brows furrow into a deep glower.

"You fool!" He throws me from him and I hit the door with a thud. My knees buckle and I simply slide to the floor. "Where is it?!" He shouts, bending down and spitting the words into my face. I wince and jump, but I manage to shove my hand into the pocket of my breeches to drag the tiny pendent out by it's chain. I chuck it at him, feeling relieved to be free of the burden.

He snatches it up and I hang my head, breathing heavily, feeling suddenly foolish and stupid. I stand up, but stagger for a moment. He's quiet now, save for his sharp breathing.

"What have you done to her?" I look up and nearly gulp for the chill his tone sends crawling up my spine. Slowly he lifts his eyes to mine, enraged and livid. I feel myself becoming smaller inside, but I will myself to keep standing.

"A man came," I murmur, "A man came and knew she had it. He wanted her. I. . .I'd already taken it from her, but she didn't know. I just. . . I just. . .g-gave. . ." I choke on my words unable to finish.

He takes a step toward me, purpose in his long stride. I cower away from him and he shrieks, "You gave what?!"

"I gave her to them!" I feel a sob trying to tear it's way from my throat and I make a strange gulping cough as I swallow it down. I blink rapidly as my throat burns.

He back hands me and sends me reeling toward the door. It flies open and instead of slamming into wood I fall into Calvin who catches me with an 'oooof' sound. He pushes me back to my feet and steadies me as I stare at him dazed, my vision swimming from the force of the blow.

"Captain?! Wh–?" He looks up then and see's Kevin. I turn just as the tall, angry man steps forward, ready for more. Calvin jumps in front of me and screams, "What in God's name do yeh think you're doin'?!"

"Interrogating the man who gave my daughter away. Step aside boy," his tone is calm and even.

"No," Calvin says flatly. His fists are clenched and his jaw set tightly. I go slowly to my knees, feeling sick and awkward, but strangely safe suddenly. I blink and shake my head a little, trying once again, futilely to clear it.

Kevin stands up as straight as he can, but Calvin doesn't flinch. If anything he looks more determined. "Get out of my way boy," Kevin demands. Calvin shakes his head slowly, once.

"I said no. You're a grown man, but you're 'andling it like a child. Beating him to a pulp won't get your daughter back, and it certainly won't make him talk te you."

Kevin's fists relax a fraction and he inhales slowly. "Is he such a coward?" he inflicts. I wince a little, but Calvin glowers.

"No, you are." Kevin's brow goes up.

"He's the one cowering in a corner."

"And you," Calvin sneers, "Are the one beating a man who's not even trying to defend himself. What does that say abou' you? I think it says you have a nasty temper and very little self control and you might kill a puppy if it go' in your way. Any man who kills puppy's is an ass. You're an ass." I wasn't sure I liked being compared to a puppy, but I was too dazed to say anything in my defense. For some reason though I smiled briefly. For all the seriousness of the point Calvin was trying to make, it sounded funny. The smile faded though as quick as it appeared.

Kevin glares at the boy then turns to look at me. There is nothing forgiving in his eyes, and I don't blame him, not at all, but he seems willing to talk without throwing his fists around.

"Yeh good now? Yeh calmed down now? Or is that too hard for you? " Calvin asks almost haughtily. Kevin snarls and Calvin holds his hands up and says, still calm, "See, tha's what I'm talkin' bout mate."

Kevin closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath before he nods to him and Calvin smiles briefly with a rewarding nod, then turns around to face me. "Yeh alrigh' cap'n?

I swallow, attempting to get the dry cottony feeling out of my mouth. "I will be, I think." He grabs my hands with both of his and pulls me back to my feet. I nod my thanks and walk slowly through the other door into the other room. I sit down at the table and motion for Kevin to do the same. He does so, with deliberate slowness. Calvin lights a few of the candles in the room then sits down at my desk, back in the dark corner. I feel a little better knowing he's not going anywhere.

"You're friend is loyal," Kevin says stiffly, his irritation evident.

I feel my confidence returning, if only enough to speak civilly. "One of the few," I admit. "And the only one as loyal as that."

Kevin smirks, "He must not know you very well." The deeper implications in his voice grate on my nerves. The insinuations that I am some kind of monster are like a hammer driving the point of that nail home inside of me. _You are a monster_. I hear Calvin shift in his seat, just slightly and though I agree with Kevin I feel some semblance of comfort in knowing that at least one person believes that maybe I'm not. I'll never agree, but it means something at least, just to know someone thinks I matter.

I swallow carefully and somehow manage to say, "Or he knows me too well."

Kevin is quiet for a long moment before he asks quietly, "Where is she?"

I sigh and force the painful knot in my chest down enough to speak, "She's on a ship with a Captain called Aramis Dillon."

"And you just. . . handed her over."

I'm quiet for very long time before I nod slowly. "Yes, I did." I bow my head with the guilt.

"Why?" He snarls quietly.

"Because I. . . I wanted the treasure. I knew she wouldn't take me to it. I want. . ." I trail off, feeling pathetic about admitting the truth.

"What?" He growls.

"I don't want to die. I've heard rumors that there are things in the treasure that can make you live forever."

Kevin snorts then lets out a strange strangled groan. "You-you. . . oh dear God help me."

"I'm sorry. . ." I mutter. I manage to lift my eyes to look at his face, only to find those freakishly pale eyes glaring at me with such contempt and malice that he doesn't need to hit me to make it sting.

"I doubt it," he breaths.

"I was going to try to go after her," I whisper. "I wanted to save her. . ." I hadn't actually really come to that conclusion yet. I wasn't sure if I was actually going to do it. I'd thought about it. But the thought frightened me. Death would've ended up breathing down my neck. But I'd been thinking . . . Now it was for certain. Whether I wanted to or not, we were going to go and get her back.

"Again, I doubt it. But you will now, so help me. I can't fight off an entire crew of men alone, so you're going to take me to them and you're going to fight, with your crew and we will save her. And then I will take her home and you well never lay you're filthy hands on her again."

I look up at him with a scowl, my defenses rising at his implications. "What are you implying, sir? I did not, I repeat, I did NOT rape her."

He just stares at me, but I stare back, confident in my own defense this time. We glare each other down for a long moment before he raises an eyebrow, "You're not lying."

"No, I'm not. I would never. . . " I trail off and look away, swallowing hard. I shake my head again, ridding myself of plaguing memories.

"Did anyone on board your vessel touch her?"

"No. Malcolm wanted to but I made sure he never got close enough to do anything."

"How exactly did she come to be aboard your ship?"

I briefly explain how I'd found her and why I'd brought her on board. He looks extremely irritated but he says nothing.

"You'll take me to find her," he says and it's no question.

"Yes," I whisper. "Of course I will."


	16. A Change In The Wind

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**A Change In The Wind**_

A week and five days. It feels like years. I stare with glazed eyes at the same splinter I've been staring at for what seems like the last six hours hoping somewhere in the back of my head that the monotony will break. The events that landed me down here keep playing over and over in my mind.

_Jack paying me a salary. A large salary. Jack smiling. Jack telling me he liked me a lot. Jack touching my neck, pulling me closer. Jack kissing me. Falling asleep in his arms. Foolish. Shouldn't have done it. He took it then. All he wanted was the treasure. Morning. _

I pause like I always do here. He was upset that morning. I want the reason to be guilt. I want it so desperately to be guilt that made him upset.

_Good morning kiss. He said he was sorry. I thought it was for the way he was behaving. It wasn't. He was apologizing for what he'd done, for taking the necklace. For hurting me. _

_Right?_

I groan and shake my head, curling tighter around myself. I want it to be true. I want it to be remorse, and I want it to be enough that he'll turn around and come find me, give it back, save me. I want him to care.

Why do I care? I growl, feeling like tearing something apart, but there is nothing in my cell that my small frame could do any damage to save for my clothes. I'm not about to tear my clothes apart.

I hate him. I hate him!

"I hate him!" I scream to no one. _So why do I want him to save me?_

I bury my head in my arms, resting on my knees and start to sob. I'm startled out of my self pity when I hear a low chuckle.

"Oh, do you now?" Aramis steps out of the dark hallway into the dim light filtering through one of the port holes. I quiet and hiccup, glaring up at him from under lowered eyelids. Every nerve in my body tenses at the sight of him, like springs are coiling up in my muscles and if he attacks I will pounce. My fists tighten and I grind my teeth, keeping my eyes on him.

"Your crying tells me otherwise, my bell." He leans his shoulder casually up against the bars and crosses his ankles, resting one foot's toe on the ground.

"I'm locked in a brig. A damp, soggy, smelly brig, in a shirt that's too big and a skirt that's too short. I'm dirty and I ache all over from sleeping on a hard surface. I'm hungry and thirsty, and you think I'm crying over him?!" I spit out like an angry cat. At the list of all my misfortunes my anger for Jack comes back to me tenfold and I find it very easy to let myself believe I hate him.

Aramis sighs, mockingly. "You poor thing." He smirks at me. "I told you we were going back to get him didn't I?"

I merely nod.

"To kill him."

I keep my face schooled to a unfeeling mask and nod again. "Yes, why're you repeating yourself? I've no need to have a parrot." I look away nonchalantly as I speak but I hear him shift in irritation.

"I just had some news for you bell." I turn back to him to find him looking pleased beyond measure. I wait in silence, not wanting to speak too much to save my parched, raw throat. "I mean, tis a wee bit inconvenient. Alas, amusing all the same."

I wait for him to continue but he doesn't. I roll my eyes in annoyance and ask, "What?" rather harshly.

He looks sideways for a moment, a triumphant and mildly sickening smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. A little shiver of what appears to be delight runs over his shoulders and he gives a sound that could only be classified as a chortle escapes his lips. His handsome face combined with the subtle masochistic behavior makes me think of a devil. He must be the devil. Charming and attractive on the outside and cold and evil on the inside. "I don't think words'll do it justice bell. Tis just one o' those things you've got to see with your own eyes."

To my surprise he pulls the keys off of his belt and unlocks the door. I stare at him for a long moment apprehensively. "Get up then!" He roars, but he's laughing while he does it. I jump to my feet as he makes to step toward me. He nods, proud of himself and pushes me in front of him. So he can keep an eye on me I'm sure.

Above deck, every eye falls on me. I shift, feeling my insides squirm as I know exactly what at least ninety percent of them are thinking. I spot Toby near the mainmast and he smiles at me, just briefly. I swallow and gather courage from it, feeling a little better, knowing I'm not all alone here.

A strong hand with long fingers closes over my upper arm and I jump, trying to pull away. It jerks me and I turn to see Aramis giving me a look that clearly states his displeasure. "Bell, if you really don't like my touch so, then perhaps I should _teach_ you to _cherish_ it." I relax my body though it takes every last bit of self control I have. He smiles proudly and my stomach twists over itself. "Now come," His delighted is smirk gracing his features again as he motions elaborately out to sea with his other arm, "See the wonders fate has to bring to Captain Jack." He laughs dramatically as he pulls me to the rail. Finally he lets go of my arm and I can't suppress the little shudder that goes through me as I subconsciously shake off the filth. A spyglass is shoved into my hands and I fumble with it for a moment before he points out to the black figures on the horizon. I look at him sideways before I carefully put the instrument to my eye. I scan the horizon for a moment before I come upon the scene I'm looking for. The _Pearl_ and another ship, sitting close together. They don't appear to be engaged in battle, but they're obviously tied together for communication purposes.

I jump a little and drop the glass.

"T'would seem that your dear captain has gone and gotten in trouble with the local law enforcement." He laughs again. "I believe that's the _Dauntless_! What's most amusing is that the fastest ship in the Caribbean got itself snuck up on by the _Dauntless_! Must've been distracted." He smiles at me cruelly, as if trying to convey some kind of message. "Not catching on are we?" he asks as he reaches out and grabs my chin, bending close to me as he speaks. "It seems Captain Jack was on his way to find me. Which would have been convenient since I was on my way to find him. We would've just had a little rendezvous and sorted all this out. Kill Jack, get your necklace and we'd move on! Alas, fate was not so kind. His rescue operation, or rather, his suicide mission, was interrupted." He bends closer, his face twisting into a more menacing smile, his green eyes glittering with malicious mirth. He sneers as he speaks, "He was on his way to save his damsel, all the guilt. I guess he just couldn't take it. And now, tis most inconvenient that I'll have to deal with the navy to get my prize. But," He chuckles, "I simply can't wait to kill him in front of you, knowing now that he feels for you the same way you feel for him."

* * * * * *

_A deep melancholy_ has settled into my chest and I cannot bring myself out of it. I stare listlessly as Dillon's ship slips out of sight, then I shut my eyes tight wondering where and when exactly I changed into someone who really cared.

For some reason I shiver involuntarily and I open my eyes again. Everything's quiet, still, as the _Dauntless_ glides up next to the _Pearl_. The decisions have been made, and we do nothing.

Norrington's men throw lines over till the ships are secured together. I move slowly to the rail, feeling as if I've been pumped full of lead, feeling like I'm walking to some kind of doom. However, there is also a sense of something else inside of me. Something I can't quite pin-point. A sudden wind whips through my dread locks and beads, making them sing a merry tune as they jingle. For some reason I smile a little. With the wind I take in a deep sustaining breath.

I'm unsettled. I breathe in again, though the air has stilled some now. Change. I can feel it at my back. Something is moving around me and inside of me and there is nothing I can do to stop it. A part of me feels that eventually everything will be okay. But then. . . nothing's ever been okay for me. So that must just be wistful thinking.

I look again toward the horizon where Dillon's ship, and Melody, disappeared. That ache in me comes up for a moment, and I shove it down.

"Captain Sparrow." I turn again to look at James Norrington and a ripple goes through me, an automatic conscious change, from the real me, the scared and tired me, to the fool of a man who can talk his way out of anything. I smirk at him.

"Yes Commodore?" I sway as I speak, inflicting a little cheery up-lilt to my voice.

He raises one dark eyebrow and glances to his right, then back to me, "You didn't even try to get away?" He seems rather stunned, but not at all distressed with the situation.

I chuckle. "I would've Jas, alas, I was rather distracted and I'm afraid I failed to see you coming. My crew seem to be lacking in observatory skills as well. I'd elect to have them flogged, but am quite certain that I will not be here to do it. Since, you, being the upstanding gentlemen of the navy that you are, are going to do the upstanding thing and take me to be hanged. As is regulatory with most pirates. Am I correct Norry?"

He blinks and I'm aware even from the short distance that his jaw is rather tight, not with anger, but rather annoyance. Strangely, this amuses me greatly and I feel my spirits lifting. I almost want to laugh out rightly. Maybe for the sheer absurdity of the facts before me. Every time I have been in a noose, literally and metaphorically, (and it has been many times!) I have somehow avoided death, physically and mentally. I feel no fear that he is going to take me to my demise. The logical part of me (which is usually quite suppressed, but has shown its face more often these days) tells me that I should not be so relaxed. But I can find to qualm within me. In fact, this strange sort of hope has come to light in me. Of what I'm not sure. Maybe the wind brought it up from the sea. I glance fondly at the water, knowing she knows me better than any.

I laugh to myself, then I look back at James. "I'm also quite certain you'll take every member of my crew along with you. However. . . I have a deal to present to you."

He scowls but says nothing, though the way he tilts his head indicates he's listening.

"I'll come quietly James," I'm almost serious while I speak, and I do mean what I say, "If you let all of these men and my ship go, save just one other."

He turns his head just so and narrows his hazel-grey eyes. "Which other?"

I turn and look around, swaying slightly, and feeling very confident in myself. "I'll tell you privately mate. I'd rather not have him pummel me now. I'd like to die unscathed." He does an eye roll that only goes halfway before a plank is placed between the two ships. I head toward them and feel a hand on my arm. I turn around and see Kevin.

"What are you doing?" he hisses.

"I'm saving your ass so you can go get your daughter," I mutter, scowling.

"You got her into this mess, and now you're taking the easy way out!"

"Easy way out?! I'm going to a noose mate." He snarls silently and whispers, "You and I both know you won't be hanged. There are stories about you, you know."

I smile, "Then if the story goes how they usually do, I'll come back alive and save the bonny lass."

"So flippant," He counters, his anger flaring up.

I scowl, and feel the seriousness come back over me, "Better this than us all be taken and no one goes to save her. If I could stay I would, because quite honestly, Kevin, I do regret what I did to her. I care. I really do actually give a damn." I shift uncomfortably, not sure about my feelings for her. They bother me a great deal, and I refuse to look at the whole truth. It's ridiculous anyway. "If I don't go, he'll hang the whole crew. I can't have that. For her sake as well as theirs. I have friends on this ship, people who don't deserve to die." I turn then to see Calvin looking up at me miserably. I smile at him a little, knowing he'll understand. He masks his feelings well, but I can just see the pain there behind his golden eyes. He nods and a little significant smile comes over both our faces. I wink and he shakes his curly head.

"I'll be back. You find her Calvy."

"Yes, Captain." He says with a stiff nod, but the little smile is still there. I get the distinct feeling though that he knows things I don't. But then, he always has. Old soul, Calvin. Intuition of a man three times his age.

I place a hand on his shoulder briefly before I turn to head to the _Dauntless_ but my wrist is snagged again by longer, thinner fingers than Calvin's. I turn to find Kevin staring at me again, his pale blue eyes so intense it's like they're searching my soul. I scowl and swallow hard, very uncomfortable to have him scrutinizing me so. I don't like people seeing the real me, and he's delving too deep. I pull away hard, but he hangs on. "Wait," he whispers and somehow this point feels crucial suddenly. He stares at me hard, searching my eyes with his and I fight the urge to turn away. After what seems an eternity he blinks and reaches into his pocket. He shoves something cold and metal into my hand. I look down and see the unicorn pendant lying in my hand. The cool metal heats up and warms my palm. "Take it," he whispers.

"You've gone loony mate," I say in disbelief.

"I'm aware of that. But it might save your life, not that I give a shit. For some hell only knows reason I feel you need to take it. Now go before I change my mind." He straightens and finally lets go of my wrist. "Put it on," he says stiffly before he turns and walks away.

I turn back to Calvin with big eyes and an expression that clearly reads, 'well that was weird.' He shrugs with a similar expression and I say, "Tell them Anamaria is temporarily Captain, because I _will_ come back. Make that very clear. And that Kevin has a great deal of say in what goes on. You find her. Got it?"

"Of course, Captain." I put the necklace on and hide it under my shirt before I smile at him, knowing he'll do all I ask and make certain the others to do, and then I cross the plank and hold out my wrists for one of James's men. He puts me in irons immediately and I smile sideways at him, making him scowl. I laugh, feeling my heart pounding with a thrill that can only be considered mad. He walks me a few short paces to James who looks at me with a stony face and asks, "Which other man?"

I look back over toward the ship and say, "The tall one, with the burly arms. The one who smells like rotten fish."

"That one?" James points. I nod, "Yep, that'd be him. Malcolm. Raymond Malcolm."

"And why him?" Norrington asks.

A jaunty smile pops onto my face and I say, "I just don't like him. He's a lummox and an ass."

"Fair enough. You know I'll be back for the rest of them once you're finally dead." It's not a question. I turn to him and resist grinning, settling instead on a sideways smirk. My eyes however retain a seriousness as I say, "James, you and I both know you'll never kill me."

He stares at me for a moment before I'm lead toward the hatch. I catch a glimpse of Malcolm being shackled and led, with much difficulty I note, toward the _Dauntless._

_**A/N: Enter James Norrington. I love him. :) Please Review, I really appreciate it! **  
_


	17. Unexpected Company

**Chapter Seventeen**

_**Unexpected Company**_

_I sit in the brig_ of the Dauntless and only minutes after I've been locked up securely they bring Malcolm down. He gives me a glare that could only be described as mutinous. One of the soldiers accompanying him starts to unlock the door to the cell I'm in before I blurt, "Ah, mate, I know I'm not exactly on your nice list, but I'd really rather you put him into _that_ cell." I point to the one next to mine significantly with a little bit of an exaggerated sick look on my face.

The soldier rolls his eyes but moves farther down and opens the other cell. I smile at Malcolm in a way that is ridiculously friendly. I'm sure I come off as a moron, but I'm finding the situation terribly funny for some reason.

They lock his cell and walk away. I sit down across from him and put my leg up on the bench, relaxing against the wall behind me. "Nice day, eh?" I say, still smirking like a fool.

"I'm going to kill you Jack Sparrow."

I chuckle, "No, you're not actually. See, the navy will kill you before you get the chance to kill me, and if all goes as they plan, I'll likely be dead before you. But since things with these people usually go how I plan, you'll be dead long before me. So, you'll never be killing anyone again really. You'll be dead."

His mutinous glare has gone murderous. But I just smirk and tilt my hat down over my eyes, leaning back more fully to take a little nap.

* * * * * *

_Arriving in Port_ Royale brings up mixed feelings in me. I smile remembering a certain red head once. But I'd been young then. Very young, but I can't help but glance in the direction I know she lived in. I wonder if she's still alive. I shrug as they lead me down the gang plank and toward the fort and the holding cells there. James is only a few feet behind me, muttering something to Gillette. I sigh and say, "You really don't want to hang me James." He sighs in turn and I chuckle, having found he really is terribly annoyed that I've decided I'm on a first name basis with him. Even though it is clearly not the other way around.

He falls into step next to me and the soldier holding my arm and walking with me. "Why not Sparrow?" He asks, if only to placate me temporarily. I find it amusing that he humors me.

"Because I was on a rescue mission and you so rudely interrupted."

He looks down at me, he's rather tall, and betrays his surprise. Quickly however he covers it up with the typical stoic visage, plainly doubting my claim. "Really?" He asks and a rare smirk crosses his face. It was the same one he gave me when he told me he'd expected my sword to be made of wood.

"Really, honest to God."

"Right," He actually chuckles.

"I'll prove it to you one day."

"You'll be dead before you can do that I'm afraid."

"You sound rather confident, Jas. I however, am not."

He stops and turns to look at me. The soldier escorting me stops too, allowing his senior officer to speak to me. "Why? What makes you so sure you'll be able to make another grand escape, Mr. Sparrow?"

"Simply that I am not ready to die Jas. And when I'm not ready to die, I simply don't do it."

He stares at me for a long moment before he says, "Your pride in this will surely sting in the final moments while you are hanging and gasping for breath. I hope your neck breaks, it'll hurt less that way."

I can't help but grin at him. "I won't die James."

"You will Jack. You will."

There's a smile in his eyes, and I realize with some satisfaction that he has at least some grain of respect for me. I know I have a great deal for him.

He walks one way and my escort leads me another. He puts me in a cell, the same one I recall being in before William set me free, and I sit down, smiling to realize James had used my first name.

I then find a lot of time to think. The clearest thing in my head is Melody. Everything Melody. The way it felt to hold her, to kiss her. The sound of her voice and the way she effortlessly fell into believing we were permanent. I grimace, thinking of how cruel I really had been. No one, not even Calvin, my best friend, had accepted me so readily. It took her time to warm up to me, but when I came right down to it, she'd really thought it would go somewhere and she was willing to give me a chance, despite myself. I feel a little sick with this thought.

I wrestle anxiously with it through the days, and hardly sleep at night. Though that's nothing new. Sleep was never easy for me to come by.

I remember so clearly the night I found her unconscious on the cobbles in that rainy street in Tortuga. Her face was like an angels there in the dark, with her pale skin and white gold hair. My heart had hammered with the sight of her in a way it never had. I felt as if I'd been pulled to her by some force that I could not for the life of me call plain coincidence. What I'd felt in that first brief second upon seeing her had made me weak and desperate. It was something overpowering and strange. Maybe that's why it scared me half to death.

Nothing had ever felt that intense for any woman. Ever. I felt like I knew her, from some kind of dream, before this life I was living now. Because I knew I'd never met her before. I'd have remembered her.

It was somewhere deep in the night, on that slab of stone floor with a sparse spread of straw, curled up and cold in the chill of the dark, that I realized I really did truly love her.

I swallowed hard when I admitted it to myself. It was a foreign feeling to me. One that really frightened me, for reasons that were too ugly and too black and horrifying to look at.

I force those things back and try to sort out my feelings. Abruptly worry envelopes me afresh. She's alone on a ship with a sick, perverted captain and more sick, perverted men. I find myself praying suddenly, praying that she'll be unharmed. She doesn't deserve any pain.

A wave of nausea overcomes me and I suppress a wretch as the full weight of what could have possibly been done to her or what could be done in the future if no one saves her hits me hard. Flickering memories spatter through my minds eye of my mother. . . and so much damned blood.

"Oh god," I sit up feeling cold sweat running instantly over my face and back. I put my head in my hands and feel through my bandanna, that hard rigid line on my face.

Torn open. More blood.

"Oh God. Keep her safe. I'm begging you, keep her from harm. I know I'm not really up to par, and I really shouldn't be talking to you I guess. . .but she doesn't deserve it. Keep her safe till I, or someone, can get to her and save her. Please. . ._please_. . . " I whisper in the dark, hoping He'd actually listen to me. I knew He was there.

I'd been raised by a very Christian mother, but I'd never really felt comfortable praying. I didn't feel good enough. I felt shamed, but tonight it seemed the only thing I could really do.

* * * * * *

The next morning the man who brought my meals told me Malcolm had been hanged. This cheers me some. Then he tells me I am to be hanged at dawn the next day. I just shrug and eat my meal, not feeling particularly concerned.

After I'd finish eating I stare at the bench outside my cell, knowing full well that if I could just get to it I could open this damn thing and get out of here. The hinges were just as they had been the last time I'd been here.

I laugh to myself.

Idiots.

As darkness falls I sit back and admittedly I start to feel a bit worried. I'm not sure how I'm going to manage getting out of this mess.

What happened next was absolutely completely unexpected.

I hear a very low thud that I'm absolutely sure I wouldn't have heard if it hadn't been as quiet as it was. I cautiously look up the stairs toward the door as it opens slowly and a sliver of pale light comes in from the moon before it's blocked by a shadow. A rather short figure dressed as a soldier in the red and white comes down the steps. I'm ninety-nine percent certain however that he is not a soldier. Though he does seem vaguely familiar.

"Yep, 'e's down 'ere." The figure whispers, turning toward the door again.

"Good, then get back up there and guard the door," another male voice says, this one also vaguely familiar. I raise an eyebrow as the fake soldier gives a little giggle before he bounds back up the stairs. Two more figures come down the steps, the bigger one dragging the real soldier, who is now unconscious, rather unceremoniously down the staircases where he is left in the corner.

The smaller person comes out of the shadows and I raise both brows and let out a rather stunned one syllable laugh before I manage to say in a voice one octave above my usual, "Elizabeth?"

_**A/N: This is getting really fun! ROFL**_


	18. Abducting Jas

**_A/N: Alright, here's the last of it for a while. I'm hoping to find time to write more of chapter nineteen soon, but we'll see. My hours picked up at work and it's crazy busy. But, it has been started and I'm feeling good about it. :) Enjoy! And Please review, it'll motivate me mates! _**_**(I adore this chapter!)**_

**Chapter Eighteen**

_**Abducting Jas**_

_She just looks at _me for a minute, almost like I'm pitiful. Then she shakes her head and turns around. William walks out of the shadows just as I hang my arms loosely through the bars and grin. "Bloody hell," I laugh, "This is rather unexpected. I thought the two of you'd had enough of me."

William sighs and says rather irritably, "So did we. But apparently you've gained a loyal friend in the last three years."

I furrow my brows. "I'm supposing you mean the fellow up there dressed as a soldier. I'm afraid I didn't get a good look at his face. Who is he?"

Elizabeth finally speaks, "He calls himself Calvin."

I throw my head back and laugh, at a loss for words. After a moment I finally look at them again, still chuckling to myself. "The question is, why did you listen to him? What did he say that was so persuasive?"

They look at each other dubiously, obviously not sure whether or not they believe what Calvin told them. William volunteers the information, "He said that you'd been trying to rescue the woman you love, before Norrington came and dragged you here."

"It's hardly likely," Elizabeth chimed in.

I simply smirk at them and let it reach my eyes. I'm not ready to admit the truth verbally yet. Mostly because, I may love her, but we'll never be anything more than we are. If it would've worked at all before, it certainly won't now, after what I've done. Better to make people wonder anyway.

"You were?" Elizabeth asks, eyes widening a little. My expression must've given some of my thoughts away.

"I was on a rescue mission," I let my face go back to a more serious expression. "And yes, Norrington did interrupt. Which is most distressing, since yes, I'd like to rescue the lass very much. Her daddy is after her, but I'm responsible for the mess, so I should like to be there to see it taken care of."

William has an eyebrow raised and he looks like he's trying to hold back a smile. Elizabeth is almost gaping. Almost but not quite. I'm not really sure what I said.

"You're actually almost, almost taking responsibility for something that happened to someone else? My god Jack, this has to be some kind of ploy. And you're little friend up there is in on it. Just so we'll help you out of here."

I chuckle. "Calvy's too honest for that kind of thing Turner. You'll find that out right quick I assure you."

"If we stick around long enough."

"Will, you're wasting valuable time mate. So, either get me out of here, or get out of here yerself and send Calvy down. Savvy?"

Elizabeth moved out of the way back toward the stairs where she looked up toward the door a bit fretfully. William picked up the bench, looking like he'd rather shoot himself in the head, and put it to the bars, pushing hard. The door lifted off and clattered to the floor. "You owe me Sparrow."

"Sure mate," I say, snatching my things off of the wall. "Lets go."

* * * * * *

_Ten minutes later_ the four of us are standing in a dark alleyway near the docks and Calvin is laughing softly, his eyes glittering in the dark.

"I thought you were supposed to deliver messages to Anamaria and the crew." I say, trying to be stern with the boy, knowing full well it's nearly impossible for me to be angry with him. For any reason.

"Oh, I did, Captain. I followed yer orders te the line. It only took abou' four minutes. And Kevin's righ' quick about' establishin' 'is authority. They've gone after Dillon like they was suppose to. After I told 'em all what I was supposed to I just snagged a rope wiv a grapple on it and dived in. Then I threw it up and climbed up on the _Dauntless_. The ship is bloody massive. I didn't look much different from all the other sailors and no one thought twice abou' me if I stayed out o' the way." He grins before he says, "Kevin did slip me somethin' before I went over."

I raise an eyebrow and he says, "I'll tell you later." I nod and turn to look at William.

"You can go now Turner."

"No I can't. They've found you're missing now I'm sure," he whispers as he nods down toward the opening in our alley. I turn to see a group of soldiers nodding hastily and retreating, bayonets at the ready. I can just make out two figures in dark blue coats with white wigs.

"Will?" Elizabeth whispers, "James will know. . ."

"James will know what?" I ask softly.

"That we helped you, Jack. Look at the way I'm dressed!" She was indeed in a predicament. Breeches and her hair was stuffed up into a hat.

"And who's doing was that?" I ask, sniggering a little. She points at Calvin and he just

shrugs.

"We need to move," William whispers.

"Good plan, but there's two officers just down there and it's the only way out."

Will glares at me through the dark and I just raise both brows innocently. When we look again there's only one officer, and he's walking away. "Now," I whisper and we stand up and slowly move out toward the docks.

"What exactly did you have in mind Jack?" I grin and point to a small fishing boat with _Pretty Pearl_ painted across it's bow.

"That should be adequate." I smile.

He stares in disbelief but Calvin promptly hops aboard and I follow. Will looks up and down the docks looking for any sign of anyone but everyone is rather distant.

"You really can go now Turner," I nod toward the street that leads back into the town and he takes Elizabeth's hand to pull her along with him but Calvin whispers loudly, "Wait!" We all look and see the officer coming back, rather cautiously.

"I'd get in if I were you and hide," Will hesitates and looks at me, obviously more than a little furious, for what reason I'm not sure. I had nothing to do with his getting involved with me. The first time or the second! "Or you can run, but I'm ninety percent certain he'll chase you mate."

He squeezes his eyes shut for a brief second in self recrimination before he tugs Elizabeth onto the boat and they go below into the tiny hold. The officer quickens his pace and Calvin mumbles, "Captain, you're not exactly unrecognizable."

"Dammit" I throw Calvin my coat so he can cover up his officers uniform, there's no way he'd pass off as one when you got too close. He's obviously far too young. He throws it on and I make a split second decision. One that shocks even myself.

I reach behind my head and untie my bandanna, pulling it off along with my hair. Calvin's eyes go wide in disbelief as the be-dreaded wig comes free and my real hair tumbles in dark waves over my shoulders.

"Holy shit," he says blankly.

"Give me your knife!" I whisper and he quickly does so. I take it and hurriedly cut the braids off of my chin, tossing them overboard. I cut a strap of leather out of the wig quickly and tie my hair back in a pony-tail. I look at Calvin who shrugs.

"It might work. But you still look like you. The dark might help though."

"We can pray," I mutter, irritated and hoping this works because I just cut my damn beard off and it took me forever to get it that long!

The officer comes up along the boat and I glance up at him out of the corner of my eye, not daring to look at him with my full face. "Is this your boat?" He asks and I roll my eyes. It's James Norrington.

"Aye sir," Calvin says in a thicker accent than he usually speaks in. "Tis me daed's 'ere. Fishin' it' is."

"I saw two people get on board your boat and they don't seem to be here. Where've they gone?" He asks, sounding irritated.

Calvin looks at me and I look at him, and make another split second decision. Norrington, all alone.

What an idiot.

I smirk at Calvin who scowls in question.

"Sir?" Norrington repeats. I do nothing and he demands. "Show me your papers, sir."

I pause for a long moment, letting the silence hang in the air, before I look up slowly with a great crazy grin on my face and say with excitment, "I haven't got any papers, Jas!"

Before he has time to react I jump up and grab him by his arms and drag him head first into the boat. He flips over and falls with a heavy thud onto his back. Calvin dives over and slaps a hand over his mouth to keep him from shouting. I snatch up a spare bit of rope and secure it around him tightly. Then I take his sword and toss it to the other side of the boat. "You should've have just kept walking James," I declare in a light sing song voice. "Not smart to talk to strangers in the dark when you're all alone."

I chuckle and secure the knot fully. Calvin shoves a strip of fabric into his mouth to keep him quiet before he jumps up and furls the sail. I grab the little rudder and steer us out of Port Royale, a little smirk on my face.

My goodness I've really gotten myself into trouble now.

* * * * * *

_William and Elizabeth_ come up just as I re-secure my dread locks and bandanna onto my head. James makes to lunge at them awkwardly and he snarls through his gag. "We're moving," Will says as he moves toward me looking very edgy. "Jack! We didn't plan on coming with you! Turn around now!"

"Can't do that William," I say, taking my coat from Calvin.

Elizabeth gasps and my eyes follow hers to James on the floor and he looks livid. She looks guilty and William sits down heavily. "Oh, heaven help us."

"Turner," I say lightly as I secure the rudder, "Why exactly did you agree to even come with my little Calvy to save me?"

He glares at the boy who looks out to sea pretending he can't hear the conversation. I assume by that he said something he wasn't sure was a hundred percent true. "What did he say exactly?" I ask slowly.

"He said," he looks up at Elizabeth who steps toward me seething. She takes over and says, "He said that Will should at least get you out of your cell, so you could go save your girl, since you helped him save his."

I glance at Calvin and curse his intuition at the same time I want to hug him.

"We don't believe there is a girl Jack," Elizabeth states matter of factly. "It's not like you."

"You know nothing about me," I say quietly "You really don't know what is like and is not like me, Miss Swann."

She furrows her brows and sits down next to William, "It's Mrs. Turner."

My brows go up and I smirk as I glance up at the stars. "Of course it is. . ."

"There is no girl is there?" Will asks.

"Actually, Will," I look him hard in the eye. "There is a girl. Whether or not she is _my_ girl or not is a different matter entirely. I doubt that will ever be. Seeing as I basically sold her out and she'll likely hate my guts for the rest of her life."

He and Elizabeth scrutinize me for a moment before Elizabeth asks, "Do you love her?"

I chuckle humorlessly and say, "I just told you I sold her out, and you're asking if I love her?"

"You're also going after her. Something you just don't do unless it's of profit to you."

I cringe inwardly, thinking that there might be a profit. . .though it's slim. Still, I know the truth. I close my eyes for a moment then I look at her, schooling my face to a blank and I say, "It doesn't matter. I'm not going to be her beau. I'm not the type to settle down. You should know that."

No one speaks again after that and we sail in hushed silence, until I notice a ripple in the water and hear a scrape against the side of the boat. I peer over only to see nothing but black water. I listen for another strange noise, but none come.

Early in the morning once we are far, far away from Port Royale I un-gag and untie the good commodore. "I should shoot you now," He growls and I chuckle.

"I have your gun mate. So I'm afraid that won't be possible. I'd sit and be a good boy for now because my little friend here is watching you. And he may look small but he's got muscles like an ox." James looks at Calvin who just grins at him with his most charming smile. The commodore looks confused and uncomfortable at the sight of Calvin. Probably because the boy looks anything but mean. The curve of his lips is soft and sweet, and his eyes are full of laughter. Anything but sinister. But James doesn't have to know that.

I move over to Calvin who keeps a watchful eye on Norrington as he pulls a ball out of his pocket about a third the size of his fist. Its bright turquoise swirled with dark blue and white and is glowing slightly in the dim light of dawn.

"Kevin said to give you this," He hands it to me and I stare at it blankly.

"It's very pretty Calvin, but why?"

He just shrugs, "I 'aven't got the foggiest idea Captain. Jus' said it would 'elp when you got to the rocks where the treasure is."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't know."

"That's just maddeningly unhelpful."

"How do we find the _Pearl_, Captain?"

I grin. "Calvin, I'm ashamed of you." I untie my compass from my belt and flip it open. "We're already on her tail."

He grins and moves off to check the ropes, his eyes constantly glancing back to make sure James is being obedient and not trying to hurt someone. I hold the glowing orb up and examine it more closely. It shimmers like pale glitter, the kind you see on a clear but freezing day when all the water in the air freezes. . . to glitter dust.

My mother called it angel glitter. I smile to myself at the memory and shake the ball. It does nothing but swirl and shimmer. Useless. "You must do something. . ." I mutter. Still nothing. I pocket it and feel it settle cold and heavy against my thigh. "I suppose we'll just have to see when we get to the rocks where the treasure is. Whatever that means."

It's then that I pull the unicorn necklace out of my shirt and hold the pendant in my palm. It heats up against my skin and I sigh, feeling the guilt settle in just a little more. I wonder why Kevin gave it to me, it's the key to the Mer people's treasure. His people's treasure. And he just forked it over.

I furrow my brows and pull the little blue orb back out of my pocket. _When I get to the rocks where the treasure is. _

"What the hell?!" I nearly shout and William jumps awake across the small deck.

"Sorry," I mutter and pocket the ball again. He glares at me but settles back down to rest. I have access to the treasure. Apart from not being able to breathe underwater. But I'm sure there'd have to be a way. . . So, it makes no sense. Kevin wanted to keep me from it, and now he's given me these things. It's most unsettling.

Maybe it's a test.

To see if I'll go after Melody or my immortality.

I sit down and my eyes shift from side to side. It is tempting. . .

But no. I suppress the urge rather easily to my own surprise. I've gone soft.

"Oh, hell. . ." I grumble. "Maybe it has more to do with rescuing her. . ."

I shake my head to clear it and I stand up, going to the rudder. I pop out my compass and check our course.

Later that day Calvin comes over to me and says, "Oh, Kevin also told me to tell ye to take off yer breeches before you get in the water when yer wearin' that necklace."

I turn my head to look at him slowly, scowling as I do. "Why? Did he actually give you a reason this time?"

"I didn't have time to ask," he shrugs and wanders off again, leaving me standing there feeling more than a little irritated. So many bits of 'advice' and not a bloody good reason behind any of it!

**_A/N: Review Please!_**


	19. Boarding Achelous

**_A/N: Yay! quick updates. :) This chapter was lots of fun guys! And we get great forshadowing to Jack's inner state of mind at the end. Shutting up now. Enjoy! Reviews are lovely. Thanks to all who reveiwed the last chapters. Especially that REALLY long anonymous one. I love you, and thank you. I'd reply, but I cant without a login from you. Thanks anyway! ;) _**

**Chapter Nineteen**

_**Boarding Achelous**_

_Sing out, sing out, the silence only eats us from the inside up  
I meant no harm but I only get to say these words too late  
Wake up, wake up, dreaming only leads to more and more nightmares  
Snap out of it you said it in a way that showed you really cared._

_~Snow Patrol : Lifeboats  
_

_Later that afternoon_ Calvin jumped up from where he was dozing off and nearly shouted, "Captain, look!"

All of us turned and followed his finger out to sea to rest on the distant figure of a ship on the horizon, behind us. I fumble around in my coat for a minute before I remember I don't have my spy glass on me. I sway over to the tiller and open a box nearby and I rummage through it before I find a tiny steel spyglass. I pop it open and swing it toward the black mass on the horizon.

"Is it the _Dauntless_?" Calvin asks quietly. Norrington perks up with the question, obviously hoping that it is.

"No," I murmur squinting, aware of James sitting back heavily with a bit of a huff. "I think it's Dillon."

Calvin furrows his brows and looks up at me. "He followed you to Port Royale? Why?"

"He figured out she didn't have the necklace, the key to what he's after. Oh, I hope he didn't hurt her." William laughs behind me and I turn to find him leaning against the rail with his arms folded across his chest. "You've really got this set up nicely, Jack."

"William, you're currently being more obnoxious than I usually am. You're also making a fool of yerself. She's on that ship. And I really do have to save her."

"Okay Jack. If you say so. I'll believe it when I see it. She must really be something, for you to be so obsessed with her." I scowl deeply and turn away from him, fixing my eyes on that dot on the horizon, moving closer by the second. "Dillon's following me. . ." I mutter to myself, thinking out loud. "She figured out I took it. . . told him. He knew they arrested me. Followed me."

"Calvin, how'd he know I stole a fishing boat?"

"Bloody good question. I wonder if he had someone spying on you."

I shake my head. "Calvin, another large ship coming in would have been noted." I turn to James. "Did another ship come into the harbor after the _Dauntless_?"

"No," he says flatly.

"Right. . ."

They're gonna catch us Calvy," I murmur. He squints at the ship on the horizon and nods.

"I think ye'd be right."

I scowl and look around in every direction. Nothing but open sea and nowhere to hide. Just water. I look at Dillon's ship again and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment.

"Jump in," Calvin whispers.

I turn at him with a snap and a jangle of beads. "Waht?!" I ask through clenched teeth. James leans forward, looking at us intently. "You can't save her if you're captured too. And you've got that key. They can't have it. Jump in."

"Calvin, I'll drown you dimwit."

"Maybe," he says nonchalantly.

I scowl at him deeply. "You do know something don't you? I usually get the feeling that you know something I don't. I always assumed it was just you're strange wisdom, good, but strange. And I'm sure it usually is. But not today. You know something."

He just smiles his charming smile, "Jump in Captain.

"Calvin. . ." I growl. Then I close my eyes and start tearing off my clothes, down to my breeches, making sure to keep my back out of view of my audience.

"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to take those off too, Captain," Calvin says, smirking. I glare at him and glance hesitantly toward Elizabeth. She clears her throat awkwardly and turns away, shutting her eyes. I unhook my breeches and James starts chuckling.  
I turn and give him the best death glare I can manage. "You've really gone utterly mad, Sparrow."

"I have to agree," William says loudly, looking mildly embarrassed. I sneer at him and ignore both comments, save for muttering a few very mean curses under my breath, directed at no one in particular. Mainly because I agree with them.

"Kevin probably only told you all this crap Calvin, so I'd kill myself." The boy just chuckles and says, "I doubt it."

I shove my breeches off, glare at Calvin one last time before I dive into the water. The second I'm submerged I panic. My legs are suddenly locked together and I can't pull them apart to kick. I flail my arms for a split second before agony sweeps down my spine to my arms and my legs and my fingers. I scream, but nothing escapes but a flurry of bubbles. I watch through the haze of water as they flutter up to the surface. Water rushes into my lungs and my head starts to spin. I shake my body again, trying to swim up, desperate for air, still unable to kick my legs. My neck screams as I feel it rip at the sides and I suck in sharply, expecting the pain of more water choking me. Instead I feel air slide through and into my lungs.

From the side of my neck?

I gasp and reach up to touch it, finding three slits. Gills?

"Oh holy hellfire. . ." My voice comes clear through the water, echoing slightly, but clear. Webbing between my fingers and my. . .

"Oh my GOD!" I gasp and flail backwards away from my own legs. My tail. . . a deep coppery brown, that shimmers red in the light reflected through the water. I turn and find a spiny dorsal fin that goes half-way up my back, similar to the fins completing themselves on my arms.

For a long moment I sit still, suspended in the water around me, blue and clear, breathing, _breathing_, in deeply. The shock starts to wear off and I look around, surprised at how far I can see through the water.

"Wow," I whisper to the stillness around me. The sun glitters on the surface above me and I grin widely. As the pain of the change fades completely I move my tail in a wave like motion and feel myself propel fluidly. It feels so natural I almost laugh. I find I'm comfortable, completely comfortable, with being a fish, cradled in the arms of the sea.

I look up toward the faint dark shape that I know is the little fishing boat I'd recently vacated and wonder what Calvin will do when Dillon's ship catches up.

For a moment I can't think what I should do. Then I realize I'd left my strange fish-ball thingy that Kevin had given me. I straighten up and swim to the surface.

* * * * * *

_"You've killed_ him." William says as he peers over the side of the boat. "He's been under there for at least five minutes."

I hear him speak just before my head breaks the surface and I fly halfway out of the water, surprised to find that I can breathe through my mouth too, but only if I'm above the surface. I laugh and I hear Elizabeth throw out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a scream. William jumps backwards from the side of the boat and Norrington mutters blandly, "Oh god."

Calvin is simply laughing.

"Shut up, Calvin," I snap, but I'm trying not to laugh.

He closes his mouth, but snorts ridiculously before he manages to straighten his face. "We have a few problems. Yes, this is a great way for me to hide, however, I need to take that ball with me I think and what if Dillon catches me anyway. I have the key."

"What, you goin' to Dillon's ship then?"

I pause, then say, "Yes, I am."

"I'm not sure I see the logic in this Captain," he says, but he doesn't seem like he cares that much.

"You know I have to," I say quietly, staring up at him.

He just nods. "I'm sure ye'll be fine, I mean, yer good at makin' up stories, right?"

"I don't have a shirt, Calvin, I can't hide this thing," I hold up the necklace.

"Hmm, don't let him take it."

I give him a dubious look, "You're awfully confident in my abilities Calvin."

He smirks, "Don't get caught Jack. Sneak on board and hide. Find out if she's okay. If ye can, sneak her off. Either way, Kevin's still coming looking for Dillon too, and we'll get to the Pearl soon and tell him wha' yeh did. We'll be right behind yeh."

I nod slowly, "I'm insane. . ."

Calvin smirks and says, "That makes you the perfect person for the job." He digs through the pockets of my coat and finds the shiny fish-ball. He walks over to William who looks at him warily, before he snaps the little pouch William has around his neck off.

"Hey!" Will cuts in and trys to pull it back.

"Oh shove off Will," Calvin says, pulling the money out of the bag. He hands the pound notes back to Turner who glares at him but takes it. Calvin puts the ball into the little bag and tosses it to me. I tie it securely around my hips and nod. "Thanks. And keep that compass safe Calvy."

He nods and I turn, diving into the water.

* * * * * *

I come up out of the water by Dillon's ship silently. It's only then I see the name _Achelous_ painted across the side.

"Interesting," I whisper, touching the side of the ship. I let her slide along beside me till I

find a place where I can grab hold and climb up. I wince as my I drag my body all the way out of

the water and my legs split apart, the scales fading to skin. I situate myself on the board the rigging runs up from, just below the railing on the ship. The sun slowly sets below the horizon and I wait till the entire ship is shrouded in darkness and all is quiet before I peer over the edge. I see only a man up in the crows nest, two men up by the helm and one boy standing near the hatch to go below decks. I curse, willing him to move, but he doesn't. I close my eyes tightly and curse, before I slide as silently as possible over the rail. I land with a barely audible patter and I crouch low, still watching the boy. For several moments he seems to be checking something or another on the mast nearby, until finally he opens the hatch and moves down into the ship. I look around at the two men on the helm and the one up in the nest. Satisfied of their being occupied I creep, stopped low, to the hatch. Slowly I open it up just enough to slip in and I go below to the level above the bilges. Carefully and quietly I sneak to the back of the ship where the brig is usually located. I thank God when I see the bars of it ahead.

I slip behind a stack of large grain sacks where I press myself into the darkest corner and wait till all the noise dissipates. After what feels like an hour, the voices in the distance have mostly died down and all is quiet, save the creaking of the ship around me and the quiet crying I can hear just around my sacks of grain.

"Melody," I mouth to myself and close my eyes. So close. . . but she won't be happy to see me. I sigh and swallow the lump in my throat, but it does nothing to get rid of that familiar ache that has awoken again in my chest. I knew that soon, the full bite of what I had done to her was going to hit me.

A wave of nausea overtakes me so unexpectedly that I'm hard pressed to keep my gag-reflex under control. I gasp and press a hand over my chest, attempting desperately to quell the physical pain that suddenly threatened to overtake me. A fear wells up, consuming me all the more the more I try to get rid of it.

The thought of getting the brunt of anger and pain from her, the thought of being on the receiving end of her scorn. . .hurts worse than anything so far. And fear is it's favorite companion. Calvin's words about my fear ring through my ears with clarity, _"You're so blinded by your fear that you can't see what you're doing to yourself. Every step you take to run away from your most feared demise is only taking your closer to it!"_

I groan softly and shake my head slowly, trying to push it away. I feel something deep down in me, a pressure of sorts, start to build up. I take a deep breath and lean my head back against the wall, willing myself calm. My composure comes back to me and the swimming sensation in my head dissipates.

But that distant pressure in the deepest recesses of my heart and my head is still there. I fear suddenly that one day soon, it will blow. And I'm suddenly terrified of what's going to happen to me and anyone in my vicinity when it does.


	20. Rescue Mission Gone Awkward

**_A/N: Look! Quick update. Awesome right?! Where are you guys? oO . . . ENJOY! _**

**Chapter Twenty**

_**Rescue Mission Gone Awkward**_

_I listen again_ for a long moment before I almost go around to call her name.

Then I realize I have a major problem. One I'm shocked I overlooked. I'd been too concerned with all my sneaking and not getting caught I hadn't remembered I was naked. I look down at myself and my eyes go wide.

"Oh dear. . .how could I be so stupid?!" I curse quietly and I hear the crying stop. I close my eyes and breathe in slowly, then out slowly.

"Okay, Jackie, take it easy. . ." I whisper to myself.

"Who's there?" I hear Melody ask quietly, her voice squeaking a bit.

I sigh and move closer to the edge of my hiding place, not exactly sure how I'm going to pull this rescue operation off whilst I am naked. "It's me," I whisper loudly.

There's a long moment of silence before she says softly, "Who the hell is me?"

I roll my eyes, "I'm hurt love, my voice can't be that unrecognizable."

I hear her shift, like she's stiffening up. There's another long moment of silence before she speaks again. "Jack?" She half-snaps.

"Aye love," I say softly. "Tis me."

"How did you get here?"

"Uh, I swam."

Another pause. "You bastard," she seethes and I cringe at the recrimination. I have nothing to say in reply. It's silent for a long time before she asks, "Why the hell did you come here? You have the damn key, and now you know how to use it to get to the treasure, so why aren't you off doing what a good pirate would do?"

I smile humorlessly to myself and say softly, "Because love, I've faced the fact that I am anything but a good pirate."

"Then what are you?" she hisses. "Other than a selfish ass hole who takes pleasure in taking advantage of women with his charm?"

I cringe again, my nose twisting up with the bite of her words. "I honestly can't say what I am love. Just a man, I guess. Who is everything you said he is."

She doesn't speak again for a while. Then she says, "Why are you still hiding back there? If you came to get me out of here, please hurry." Her voice sounds more humble when she finishes with, "I don't want to be here anymore. I'm tired. . .and. . ." she doesn't finish.

"I'm gonna get you out, Melly. I just have a minor problem," I mutter uncomfortably. I find it strange that I feel so uncomfortable. I'd been naked with hundreds of women, but the embarrassment of this situation was not going away. Perhaps because it was Melody, and she was

. . .well, innocent. And I didn't want to make this any worse for her.

"What?" she snaps. "What could be so awful that you--?"

"I'm naked Mel!" I shout softly.

There's a very long moment of silence before she goes, "Oh."

Another long pause. "Why in the world are you naked?"

"Because I went swimming and turned into a fish. I sort of. . . forgot. . . to get my breeches. It just didn't cross my mind."

She actually giggles and I roll my eyes in irritation. "Do you have your bandanna?" She asks suddenly.

I look up and smirk. "I do."

"Ta da."

I reach up and untie my bandanna from around my head. I make sure my be-dreaded wig is still secure before I tie the strip of red fabric around my hips. It barely covers the important stuff. I squirm a little. This is going to be unavoidably embarrassing.

"This is not adequate," I growl. She giggles again. Curse her!

"Better than nothing, isn't it?"

"Why is this funny to you?!"

"Because you deserve to be embarrassed and uncomfortable you squid headed snake," she practically spits. The familiar venom in her voice is very clear and, oh, that one stung.

"I see you've not lost your amazing talent for insulting me," I mutter.

She snorts. "You deserve to be insulted, you pig."

"Yes, I do. By all means dahling, continue."

"Just get me the hell out of here!"

"Working on that love."

"Come out please."

"Why love, you want to see me naked?"

She growls in frustration and does not reply. I chuckle and say, "I'll take that as a yes."

"Now is not the time to flirt with me you twisted piece of cow dung. Get out here now and get me out of here. You got me into this mess and you're going to get me out of it. And then you're going to take me home. Got it?"

I close my eyes and push away the injury her words bring up. "Yes love," I say softly. "I am."

She doesn't respond, I get the feeling she's nodding to herself though.

* * * * * *

I hear floor boards creek from behind the stacks of grain sacks and slowly a shadow moves out from behind them. It straightens up and Jacks carefully moves into the dim light coming through my porthole. I curse the way my heart starts to pound when his face comes into view. I push my attraction for him down and scowl. He's a bastard. And I hate him.

I try to keep my eyes on his face, but it's hard to ignore the fact that he's wearing nothing but a strip of fabric around his waist, and it's barely keeping him concealed. I swallow hard and glare up at his face, trying to disregard the way the pale silver light makes the dark skin of his chest and thighs glitter slightly.

Of all the ways he had to walk back into my life, it had to be to rescue me, mostly naked.

What a jerk. And he doesn't even know he's being a jerk. Jerk.

He pauses when he sees me, and a flicker of pain crosses his face. I wonder for a moment if he really does feel as remorseful as he appears to. I want to believe that he does.

But how can I?

He moves closer to the bars and kneels, very, very carefully; thank heaven, in front of me. I look at him, and I can see the pity in his eyes. I tell myself the guilt in them is my imagination. I won't let him hurt me again. The emotional pain was worse than anything I'd experienced thus far. Not again.

"Do you know where the keys are? Or who has them?" He asks quietly.

"Dillon has them, and the really big pirate that . . . brought me over to this ship." He furrows his brows as I hesitate in the middle of my sentence.

"Did he do something else?" The anger in his voice is barely concealed.

I look up at him again, unsure of how to respond. "He . . . searched me. Dillon had him and one other pirate do it. They didn't. . .rape me, but they tore all my clothes off. . ." I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and tears sting the corners of my eyes as the shame comes over me again. Jack bows his head and I see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he grips the bars with one hand, his knuckles whitening briefly.

"Has anyone hurt you Melly?"

I shake my head. "No, no. . . I'm just hungry. They don't feed me much. . . and. . . cold."

"That's bad enough," he growls and the look on his face is livid. But not at me. It almost seems like he has some personal vendetta against abuse the way he's behaving.

Hypocrite.

I want to ask him who the hell he thinks he is! To walk back into my life to rescue me, pretending he's so noble! When he put me here! But I can't form the words on my lips. All I want to do is cry, because of how I want his nobility to be true. I hate myself for wanting him still. I feel sick at the thought. But I feel just as sick thinking about being without him.

I hold back a string of curses.

I hate him! Why did it have to be my heart he tied to a string to be his toy. And why do I have to want to be his?!

I look away and scowl, swallowing the lump in my throat and blinking back my tears. I will walk away from him when this is over. I will walk away and I will never look back.

"Okay." He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He looks up at the hinges for some reason and fingers them, before he swears under his breath.

"Did you bring a knife?" I ask softly.

He shakes his head, making his beads tingle merrily. The sound seems so out of place in the dark cramped space.

"Did you bring anything?!" I hiss.

He rolls his eyes and reaches into the small pouch at his hip. As he opens it up a faint silvery blue light escapes and I gasp as he pulls out the fist sized orb, swirling with pale glitter.

"Oh my god. How did you get that?!" I whisper, stunned.

"You're father gave it to me."

My jaw drops.

"My father? When? Where? How did you find him?"

"He found me love. And he wasn't happy." A shadow crosses over his face and something flickers in his eyes. Something between rage and terror.

"I take it you didn't get along?"

"No," he says flatly, bitterness dripping from his tongue.

"Then why did he give you that?"

Jack shrugs. "Haven't got the foggiest idea dahling."

"Give it to me," I reach through the bars and snatch it from him. He pulls a face but doesn't protest. I laugh softly to myself and press my lips to the orb, Jack's brows knit together and he wrinkles his nose. I reach out and grab at the necklace, snatching it up and pulling it toward me. He nearly falls over as I drag him forward by the neck and his face hits the bars with a muffled, "oof."

I put the small red marble next to the bigger blue orb and let them touch. I whisper in my head what I need and plead. _I need a key to fit this lock to get me out of here._

I let go of the necklace, making Jack stagger a little and snatch at his minimal cover to keep it from riding up. I ignore him as the orb starts to change shape, fluidly, like water, into the shape of a key, with the head of a small, beautiful fish.

Jack's eyes go wide in fascination and he leans in closer, the blue light reflecting off his dark eyes. I laugh and hand him the key. "Hurry, open it up. It'll change back quickly."

Jack takes it and jumps a little, "It feels like water."

"Just open the door."

"I am!" He puts it into the lock and turns it. It clicks and he laughs quietly. He pulls the door open and I jump up as he stands up straight. I rush him and throw my arms around his neck, making him stumbles backwards a few steps. "Woo." He chuckles a little and puts his arms around me.

The instant he does I pull back and swing my arm backwards, then forwards hard, sending it careening into his cheek. He spins sideways with the force and covers his face with his hands where I hit him.

"Don't get too comfy, Sparrow. You had your chance."

He turns back to me slowly, straightening up. He's completely unreadable. I watch as he opens his little pouch up and puts the orb back into it. "Let's go."

"How do we get off the ship?" I ask.

"We'll have to sneak up on deck and jump over. Unless you have a better idea," his voice has picked up the falsely cheery lilt he often gives to it.

I shake my head. "But, won't they catch us?"

"That is why we sneak, love." He sounds nervous. Jack detectably nervous is never a good thing. . . He hesitates before he turns away from me, but he does, and I follow him anyway. I squint as the dim light catches his back and I repress a gasp as I realize his flesh has been mutilated. His entire back is covered in gruesome scars. Some thin and white, others welted and rope-like and deep red. I strain my eyes with the realization that I think I can make out an 'M' in his flesh. It's then he shifts his hair while he's walking and dreads fall more thickly over his back. I think he did it on purpose, like he knew I was staring.

I move my eyes downward in guilt, then I realize that was a mistake! His rear end is barely covered and that bandanna is tight. Every movement in his muscles is clear as he walks. I snap my eyes to the back of his head as my face goes red. I can even feel the heat spreading to my ears!

He stops for a moment, and I stop too, just behind him. We listen for a moment to find it all still, and we start walking again.

We move as silently as possible up the narrow hallway toward the stairs that lead up to the hatch. But we have three short flights to go up. Three levels, possibly full of men. I swallow hard as a sick dread starts to come over me. Something tells me were not going to get off this ship today.

Jack turns around a corner in front of me then stops lifting his hands up. He backs up a step, then another and I close my eyes in despair.

"God, Please no. . ."

A deep chuckle resounds through the tiny hallway. "Captain Sparrow. My word, what pleasant surprise." It's Dillon.

**_Please Review. I guarantee I'll update faster if you do. ;)_**


	21. The Beginning of the Break

_**A/N: Warning: Violence ahead. Also, just a heads up, Dillon suddenly has a written Irish accent. I finally learned how, so now you know how he actually talks. Enjoy. **_**[]:(= --Jack Sparrow emoticon. **

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_**The Beginning of the Break**_

"Hello Aramis," Jack says cheerfully. I can feel Dillon smirking. "Glad the surprise is pleasant. I'm afraid that I can't say that running into you brings out the same sentiments in me."

He's swaying while he talks, his fingers twitching. I scowl. He wasn't doing that before.

If there was ever a question, it is now confirmed, that Jack Sparrow pretends he is drunk on purpose.

I hear footfalls behind me and I turn to see two more of Dillon's men, both with swords drawn. And it just had to be Ryn, the big horrible pirate and his ever constant companion Wesley. Ryn bares his black teeth at me in what he must consider a grin. I suppress the urge to gag and move subconsciously closer to Jack, running into his back. He stiffens further and Dillon says, "We're goina 'ave some fun tonoigh' boys. Bring em up." He motions toward the stairs with his head and turns, heading up himself. Me and Jack are herded behind him by the swords at our backs. I look sideways at Jack to find his brows furrowed in a sad, puppyish kind of way. He looks at me sideways, guiltily. He says nothing.

When we reach the top deck the lamps are lit, making the deck of the ship glow orange and bright. Wesley grabs me from behind and ties my hands together. Jack lunges at him but Ryn grabs_ him_ from behind. I cry out as Jack and Ryn start fighting.

Jack throws a right hook and it connects with Ryn's face, sending him reeling, but he snaps back quickly, throwing a nasty punch of his own. It hits Jack square in the face and he spins and falls to the deck hard.

I yank fiercely and try to get to him, but Wesley pulls me backwards and throws me into a pile of extra rope. I squirm but can't get up. Wesley just stares down at me, laughing softly as he shakes his shaggy red-gold hair out of his face. "I migh' actually' get o' bit o' fun wiv you today luvvy. Bout bloomin' time too."

I curl up inwardly, trying to squirm as far away from him as possible. He just throws his head back and laughs.

I hear a loud "oof" come from Jack, and the sound of a body hitting the deck again. Dillon starts laughing, hard, the hollow sound of it reverberates in the timbers and sends a chill up my spine.

"I loive yer ou'fit Cap'n Sparrow." Jack growls something inaudible, to me, and Dillon laughs again. "Get 'er standin' up. I wan' er to watch all o' this." Wesley reaches down and grabs my wrists with his hands and pulls me to my feet. He sits me down by the rail and ties my tied hands to it so I can't move or get up.

"Got a good view luvvy?" He asks with another crooked smile.

I give him the meanest glare I can muster and he reaches his hand out to grab my chin. I spit at him and I'm pleased when it gets him right in the eye. He snarls and backhands me. I yelp and jump a little, not daring to turn my face back to him.

"Wesley!" Dillon shouts. "Get away from 'er. She's got a show te watch."

Wesley growls and reluctantly steps back. I slowly turn to face the scene before me and I'm sick at what I find. Jack's been tied to the mast, his hands high above his head. He's facing the wood, resting his forehead against it. They've taken his bandanna off of his hips, so he's stark naked, his scars glittering in the bright lights of the lamps around the deck. I would've been embarrassed except for the seriousness of the situation.

Dillon saunters over to me, his hands behind his back, his heels clicking as he moves. I notice that with each of his footfalls Jack winces. "I toild ye Melody. I'd kill 'im in front o' ya." He pauses and looks thoughtful and mockingly placid. "O' course. I tink I'd like te 'ave o bit' fun firs'." He chuckles and bends over from the waist, his legs still straight, his hand still behind his back. "What do ya tink o' dat?"

I can't respond to him. I just stare up at him with sad, horrified eyes. He stands up straight and starts laughing again. "God, she really dois loive 'im."

Jack turns his head far enough over his shoulder to look at me. I meet his eyes, not sure what to do. I just stare, and I blink back more tears when I see the look in his eyes. Some kind of pleading. Combined with the shame, the fear in them is so crystal clear that I start to ache for him. I feel like I'm looking into the face of a child. He looks like he wants to shrink into the floor and die.

Dillon moves back toward Jack, slowly, and again, every time his heel clicks, Jack winces. He turns his head back to the mast and bows his forehead against it, closing his eyes tightly. I see the muscles in his jaw tighten and I know he's clenching his teeth.

The crew of the _Achelous_ have gathered around and are watching the scene with varying degrees of pleasure and indifference. Except Toby.

He's cowering near the hatch with a disturbed look on his face, the color gone from his cheeks, leaving them ashen.

I watch horrified as Dillon grips the handle of the knife on his hip, and pulls it slowly out of its metal sheath. It rings quietly, but Jack hears it and he shivers a little. His lips are moving. Quickly mouthing things and he's shaking his head slightly, like he's trying to talk himself up, like he's trying to give himself solace, but he can't. It's like he's lying to himself.

He _is_ lying to himself.

Dillon walks up behind Jack and uses the knife's tip to pull Jack's hair back. He leans in and whispers something into Jacks ear, making him cringe and turn to look at Dillon with wide horrified eyes.

"You confirm it!" Dillon throws his head back in laughter, and I watch the color in Jack's face slip away so quickly his knees buckle.

"H-how do you know that?" Jack asks just loud enough that I can hear him. He's trying to sound angry, but his voice is shaking. My heart starts threatening to pound out of my chest. Something horrible is about to happen.

"I read a lot." He chuckles again and continues, "It wois all over the papers at the tiome Sparrow. And, yer last name's the same. The resemblance is uncanny." He keeps laughing, and Jack keeps looking smaller and smaller.

"Jonathan Nikolaus!" Jack jumps at the name and snarls, slamming his own body into the mast. Aramis touches the blade to Jack's back and Jack's skin visibly crawls. I whimper, wondering what the hell Dillon's talking about, and what he's going to do.

Dillon presses the tip of the blade forward, making Jack cringe, pressing himself as close to the mast as he can, as far away from Dillon as he can. But the blade draws blood, a tiny pin prick that lets a single drop slide over the ridges of the scars, and Jack's knees buckle again.

"Stop it!" I shout.

Dillon turns on his heel. He pauses for a moment, eyes glittering with delighted malice, before he saunters toward me, fingering the blood on the blade. "He's not very brave m'las. Yeh moight wan'na consider findin' a differen' man."

"He is too brave," I say softly.

Dillon chuckles in my face, his reeking breath skimming over my cheeks. I wrinkle my nose and back away from him, my ropes chaffing. "Yeh don' sound convinced Melody."

I meet his eyes, my thoughts whirring franticly. I had to admit it was strange, for Jack, a pirate with a background of battle and violence to be so terrified in the face of this. But there was something about the way Dillon was toying with him. He obviously knew something that Jack had thought nobody knew, and he was using it to torture him. I glanced at the scars on Jack's back and it came to me. Something awful had obviously happened to him. And Dillon knew what it was. And he was using it.

Emotionally tormenting Jack with the past. Torment on the brain could be so much worse than physical . . . Physical affected the brain. This just made everything worse.

I sat up straighter. Jack _was_ being brave.

I met Dillon's eyes again and spat in his face. It met his nose and he closed his eyes like he was trying to be patient. But when he opened them the loathing in his expression became unmistakably apparent. He back handed me and I squealed. The tears that had been threatening since he'd caught us in the depths of the ship spilled over and my lip trembled.

"Yeh'd best be careful little bitch. I'm not plannen' on killen' yeh once we get that treasure. But I moight change me mind."

"Go for it," I snap. Then I humph and turn my head away from him. He rolls his eyes and saunters back over to Jack.

"Speakin' o' treasure. . ." Dillon leans his head around toward Jacks neck and he chuckles. "You _are_ wearin' it! Lads, he' brought it righ' to us!" He reaches out to yank the necklace off Jack's neck but something slams into him and sends him tumbling to the deck. Dillon sits up sputtering and I can't help a snort. I've never seen him anything but composed. He looks around to find Toby standing near Jack looking determined, but terrified. He holds up a little dagger and slices at the back of the rope holding Jack tied. A few bands snap apart but Dillon stands up and starts to move.

"Oh no. . ." I whisper. Jack turns in Toby's direction and meets the boys eyes. It's then that Dillon reaches Toby and back hands him. The scrawny teenager wheels around hopelessly and hits the floor. Jack's suddenly standing up straight again and his face has gone red. He looks furious. A feral growl escapes his lips as he yanks hard on the ropes binding him to the mast. Dillon chuckles and says, "Hittin' the boy make yeh mad Sparrow? Or shall I call yeh Jon? Or Nik? I like Nik.." Jack snarls again, sounding more like an animal with each noise he makes.

Dillon walks over to Toby who's still down, but trying to get up. He kicks him back down and puts his heel on the boys head. "This'll teach yeh to mess with yer Cap'n boy." I cringe with the anticipation of what he's going to do, and sure enough, he pushes down hard, crushing the boy's face against the wood. I hear something _crack_ and I'm pretty sure it was Toby's nose. I yank hard on my ropes again and scream. "No! No no! Stop it! Leave him alone!" The ropes hold fast and I start to sob. I can see blood leaking out from under Toby's face.

It's only then I hear Jack roar and I turn back to him, to find him straining so hard on his ropes that the veins on his arms and neck are bulging out. His teeth are ground and his feet are pushing at the mast.

I'd heard adrenaline could make people do amazing things, but I never would've guessed. Jack had pulled the rope down far enough that it was resting against the opposite side of the mast and it was staring to wear where Toby had cut it. He gasps once and pulls harder and a band snaps on the rope. My eyes go wide and my sobbing quiets a little. Dillon turns with the sound and shouts, "Stop him!"

Several of the crew start to rush forward, jostling each other. Ryn gets up behind Jack and is about to grab him when another band snaps. _Snap, snap, snap_! All the others follow quickly, all breaking apart with a pop. With each noise of the severing rope, Jack seemed to heave his breath in harder, shallower, like something in him was following the ropes example.

Breaking.

He falls backward into Ryn and they both tumble to the deck. Jack jumps off of him as fast as he can and wheels around. He looks crazy, with his teeth bared and his hair flying, all his muscles tense, his veins bulging. Ryn stands up and Jack throws a fast punch, hitting Ryn square in the face. The big man reels sideways and Jack wastes no time in slamming his knee into Ryn's groin making him double over, then he slams his other knee up into Ryn's face. Blood spews from the massive pirates nose and Jack shoves him backwards, his eyes wide and furious. He pulls Ryn's cutlass out of his scabbard as he falls and he turns in a blur. Wesley and another man with crazy black hair run up to Jack and engage him. I turn and retch as Jack slices the man with black hair's middle clean open, sending him falling lifeless to the deck. I manage to turn back in time to see Wesley go pale. Jack smirks at him, with no humor, and kicks him in the gut. It's then that I realize Dillon's fighting someone else. I turn sharply and realize a man with short, dark, curly hair is battling the Irish captain. And there's a woman with long brown hair fighting someone else, along with another man with short dark hair. . . he looks less enthused about the situation, but that doesn't stop him from being ruthless.

"Allo Melly," I jump and turn to see Calvin kneeling next to me, cutting my ropes.

"Calvin!" I squeal in relief and throw my arms around him. He laughs and says, "Come on Melly!"

"Calvin I can't fight!"

"Then stay there, and pretend yer still tied up."

I nod numbly and he jumps into the fray. I move my eyes frantically back toward Jack. Dillon's moved from the younger man with the curly hair to Jack. Between parries and thrusts he's trying to snatch the necklace off of Jack's neck. My breath catches in my throat when his fingers twist through the chain and he kicks Jack in the stomach. The chain snaps in two and Jack falls backwards onto the deck.

Dillon laughs and turns as the woman comes up behind him. She slices his arm and he growls. He pockets the necklace and starts to push her backwards with his parries. Jack sneaks up behind him and quick as lighting his hand dives into the pocket and pulls the necklace back out. He deposits it in his little pouch at his hip and snatches his bandanna off the deck.

Jack was an excellent pick-pocket. Dillon didn't even notice.

"Calvin!" He shouts.

"Yeh?!"

"Get Toby!"

"Who?" Calvin looks confused, stabs the man he's fighting, and looks around.

"The boy on the deck." Calvin spots him and runs to him. One of the _Achelous's_ crew run up after him, but Calvin manages to scoop up the thinner teenager and rush to the edge of the ship. He leaps over with a gleeful laugh and the others all run to do the same. The _Achelous's _crew starts raging. Jack starts to run toward me and I jump up. A look of relief crosses his face and he nods at me. I jump over the rail and he follows suit, right behind me.

_**Please Review. And hey, DA friends, yes YOU Seawolf ;) You can leave me reviews on here too. I'm cool with anon reviews. :) I'd really appreciate it. **_


	22. Love Without Trust

**_A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I'm having a hard time getting past this bit here, and deciding where to go with this. I know what's supposed to happen later, just not now. It's all sort of hazy. Hopefully it'll come together quickly now and I can move forward and get beyond my frustrations and get to the points I WANT to write. :) I'm fairly pleased with this chapter despite it being written through some awful writers block! Sorry for any mistakes. I got it up not five minutes after I finished writing it. Thanks for your patience! Enjoy! _**

_Under the ruins of a walled city_  
_Crumbling towers and beams of yellow light_  
_No flags of truce, no cries of pity_  
_The siege guns had been pounding all through the night_  
_It took a day to build the city_  
_We walked through it's streets in the afternoon_  
_As I returned across the field's I'd known_  
_I recognized the walls that I once made_  
_I had to stop in my tracks for fear_  
_Of walking on the mines I'd laid_

_And if I built this fortress around your heart_  
_Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire_  
_Then let me build a bridge_  
_For I cannot fill the chasm_  
_And let me set the battlements on fire_

_ ~Sting: Fortress Around Your Heart  
_

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_**Love Without Trust**_

I hit the water like an arrow and immediately my legs fuse and my fin shimmers silver. I kick out of my skirt, but grab it and wrap it in my arms in a tight bundle. I'm not stupid enough to makes Jack's mistake. Next to me he plunges into the water head first. He rights himself and digs into the little bag at his side, pulling out the necklace, looking surprised when he realizes the chain had repaired itself. It had a tendency to do that. I see the blackish shape of him shrug as he secures it around his neck. For a brief moment his body convulses, then he changes, his coppery tail forming. He swims forward, following the splashing figures I can see above us. I go after him and come to the surface to see Calvin and the man with the dark curly hair helping drag Toby into a small fishing boat. They then pull the woman over and help the man with the shorter hair.

Jack's head breaks the surface next to mine and Calvin calls, "Captain, we're not gonna be able te get this thing movin' fast enough!"

"Well help you, just get the sail down and take the tiller." Jack takes my skirt from me and chucks it over the side of the little boat. "We need to push it Melly." I nod and we both move to opposite sides of the back of the little boat, placing our hands flat on its side, we push and swim as hard as we can.

I hear the sail snap down and Calvin shouting things I can't quite make out. But the boat picks up speed. Slowly the sounds of the _Achelous's_ crew die down behind us, but I get the feeling they'll get the ship turned around eventually, and then they'll be after us.

Dillon will probably have already realized that the necklace, the precious key, is missing from his pocket.

My arms start to feel heavy from pushing and the muscles in my tail and back are straining. I feel the boat slow a little and then I feel an arm come around my waist. "Come on, Melly," a voice smooth as honey whispers in my ear. Jack pulls me around to the side of the boat and lifts me up over the rail. I curl up tight under my soaking wet, white shirt, trying to hide the nakedness that suddenly overtakes me as my fin splits back to legs. A heavy blanket is suddenly draped over my shoulders and I look behind me to see the woman who'd been in our rescue party smiling down at me.

"Thank you," I say, my voice croaking. I pull the blanket tight around me as Jack falls heavily over the side of the boat and starts heaving quietly. Calvin throws a blanket over him, thank heaven, and helps him sit up to lean against the rail.

The woman sits down next to me and says, "I'm Elizabeth."

I turn to look into her face and say, "Melody, nice to meet you." It felt mildly awkward with the strange circumstances, but it was nice to see another woman. It had been ages since I'd actually had a woman around. Except for Anamaria, but she was more like a man in a prettier shell.

It's silent for a long while as we both watch as Calvin gives Jack his clothes back. He discreetly puts his breeches and shirt back on underneath his blanket before he dons all the rest of his elaborate outfit. Then he wrings out his bandanna over the side and ties it back around his head, where it should be.

I blush a little thinking about where it had been before, and where it hadn't been not much later. I clear my throat and Elizabeth looks at me. "You okay?" She asks softly.

"Uhm, yeah. Yeah. I'm fine." Then I let out a little laugh. "Oh my heavens, yes. I'm wonderful now, I'm off that horrible ship."

"I know the feeling. . ." she mumbles and I look at her strangely.

"You do?"

She nods, "I wound up on the _Pearl_ after it attacked my home, Port Royale. I went to negotiate and the pirates took me with them."

"Jack kidnapped you!" I squeal softly, thinking of waking up on his ship with a bump on my head.

She laughs softly, "No, Jack wasn't captain at the time. Barbossa was. He's dead now. William, my husband, enlisted Jack from the jail in Port Royale and they came after me. I suppose we've been grudging friends with him since. Sort of." She clears her throat and says, "We didn't believe he was really trying to rescue a woman. It's not like him. . . unless. . ."

"There's something in it for him," I finish acridly.

She looks at me hesitantly and I glance at her from the corner of my eyes.

"Yes," is all she says.

"Well, there might be. I'd like to think he did it because he cares, but I really rather doubt it." I glare at him as he speaks softly with Calvin and takes his compass from the boy. They move to the tiller and the man with the dark, curly hair follows them. The one with the shorter hair just plops himself down, rather stiffly I note, and rolls his eyes like the whole fiasco was ridiculous and a waste of his time.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asks.

I hesitate, then figure I might as well, "That necklace he's wearing, is the key to a very vast treasure. He wants it. He pretended he was attracted to me, sort of made me believe he loved me, then he took it from me, then forked me over to Dillon."

Elizabeth's eyes are wide, but she doesn't say anything. Then she asks quietly, "Do you love _him_?" sounding a little like she can't believe why anyone would love _him_.

I look away from her, heat rising in my cheeks, from several sources. Embarrassment, anger, and humiliation.

"You do, don't you." She says softly. It wasn't a question.

I look straight ahead of me and shift uncomfortably. "A part of me does. But, how can I trust him, after what he did to me?"

"You can't."

I nod. "No, I can't. But. . ."

"But what?"

"I still love him," I whisper so softly I can barely hear it myself. I feel her sort of squirm next to me, obviously unsure of what to say. I get the feeling Jack isn't her favorite person in the world and she wants to comfort me, but is unsure of how to do so. There is a very long stretch of silence, during which I watch Jack smack Calvin upside the back of the head. The boy just laughs and shoves his Captain sideways. I can't help a little smile from creeping onto my face.

Then it dawns on me. Nobody in Jack's crew is closer to Jack than Calvin. I make up my mind to speak to the boy, wondering if he has any information on his captain that could put my mind at ease. I know it's cheating a bit, but I am hanging around pirates after all.

"He did go after you, in the end," Elizabeth finally manages to say.

I sigh and look at her again. "Yes, he did. And it was an awful mess, but he did get me out. However, I need some time."

She nods and I ask, "So, which one is William? That came and saved you?"

Her face lights up and I can't help the twinge of jealousy that erupts within me. "That one," she points to the one at the tiller with Jack and Calvin, the one with the curly hair.

"So, you're together then now?" I ask carefully. She nods vigorously.

"We've been married for three years now."

I smile at her morosely, and look at the other man. "Who's he?"

Elizabeth sighs. "Commodore, of the British Royal Navy, James Norrington."

I scowl. "Why is a Commodore of the Royal Navy helping Jack rescue me?"

She looks very annoyed as she says, "Because Jack sort of kidnapped us all. Calvin came to me and William and told us Jack was locked up in the fort. He convinced Will, who's sort of a sucker, that because Jack helped him save his. . . well, girl, that he needed to help Jack save his. We agreed to break him out, _not_ to come with him. But then we almost got caught by James and jumped aboard the boat to hide. When we came back above deck, James had been tied up and Jack had left port."

I try to hold back a smile, and barely succeed. Jack had gone through all this trouble to get away from prison and he'd come straight to me. His positive tick marks were starting to add up in my head. They hadn't surpassed the negative ones yet, but they were getting closer.

For some reason I really don't care about Elizabeth's plight, being stuck out at sea with us. Not that I don't like her, because I do. Not really certain that we'll ever be friends, but maybe. But it could be worse for her. Hopefully it doesn't get worse for her. Or all of us. I hang my head down and start playing with my fingers in a fidgety sort of way. I look up after a moment to see Calvin standing in front of me handing my skirt.

"Oh, thank you Calvin," I take it and slide it on underneath my heavy blanket.

He sits down next to me as Elizabeth stands up to go sit next to her husband across the deck. "You okay?" He asks as I watch William put his arm around his wife. They settle down and close their eyes reluctantly and I look back down at the deck before I look into Calvin's face.

"I'm better now, but . . . not entirely okay."

"Tell me?" He asks with a little raise of his eyebrows.

"Well, I'm off that ship and away from those horrible men. But we're stuck on this little boat, and Dillon will be back after us and . . ." I falter and hang my head again. I feel one of his strong hands rest on my back. He inhales and exhales deeply, thoughtfully, then asks quietly, "And?"

I swallow hard while I press my eyes closed for a long moment. When I look back into his eyes, through the dark, I wonder if I should get into it now. Calvin is the one to talk to, I told myself I would. Now's as good a time as any.

"And Jack."

He's quiet as he waits patiently for me to go on. I gather my courage and sigh, opening my mouth to speak. But my eyes well up unexpectedly, the familiar burning in my throat returning. "It was so horrible," I whisper, leaning forward to put my head between my knees. I wrap the blanket tighter around me and bite the blanket to keep from crying audibly. Calvin's hand slides from my back to around my shoulder and he pulls me closer till my head rests on his shoulder.

"And Jack sent you there?" He asks carefully. I nod and he goes on. "You're angry at him for doing that to you? Because you thought he cared?" I nod again and he sighs, sounding angry himself, but also very sad. I look up at him, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand, muffling a sniffle. He just looks at me and even through the dark I can see that distinguished sadness in his eyes.

"What is it?"

"After you were taken away, I yelled at him," he confesses. There's a little bit of guilt in his eyes, intermixed with a formless compassion I can't quite place. "I know why he did it Melody, but I also know that the real Jack didn't want to."

I scowl, confused. "What do you mean, the _real_ Jack?"

He sticks his tongue out like he's thinking hard how to word what he has to say correctly, then he bites his lip. The adoration he has for his captain is obvious, and I know he doesn't want to slander him too badly. I wonder if that will affect his honesty in this conversation and for a moment I want to get up and walk away from this. I swallow hard, willing myself to sit still. I can weigh what he says with my own feelings and my own heart and see where it goes. Getting whatever information I can glean has to be a good thing. I remind myself that I have to take into account what I know about Calvin. He's an honest boy. He's sweet and courageous and strong willed. He's also hopelessly loyal to those he cares for most. I'd like to think I'm in that category, but he's known Jack for years, and for all I know Jack's put him up to trying to convince me of his innocence, to win me back over. I have to know.

"Wait," I say before he responds to my other question. "He didn't put you up to this did he? Because if you're not going to be honest with me, if you're just protecting him and trying to fix his problems with lies I don't want to hear it."

I'm surprised when he smiles at me calmly. "Melody, I would never to you to protect Jack. Because when it comes to you, there has to be nothing but complete honesty or I'll only hurt him worse in the end." I'm not sure exactly what he means, or what he's saying, but I get the feeling that getting into it would take all night. "I'll stand up for him with honesty. I'll tell you the truth. Not all of it. There are things he has to tell you, when the time is right. But let me say, the_ real_ Jack, would didn't want to do what he did."

I stare at him, waiting again for him to clarify that, comforted by his words, but still my heart must tread carefully and I'll cling to that notion. I refuse to let Captain Jack's charm lure me to useless misery again.

"Jack's scared," Calvin says frankly. He looks at me earnestly as he goes on. "I don't know all the details, but I know that some horrible things have happened to him, things that make him think he's pretty much worthless. I believe, no, no, I _know_, he cares for you very much. Very, very much. He was angry at himself after what he did to you. And guilty, and upset. Impossible to live with, all he did was mope and glare, and such. But the thing is, from what I gather, he's scared to die. And when I say that, I mean it in the sense that it utterly terrifies him, to the point where thinking about it too hard drives him over the edge. Fear makes people do things they wouldn't normally do, and for him it's obviously so intense that he'd do just about anything to make it go away, to save himself.

Yeah, it sounds selfish. But I believe he can change, with the right things put into his life. His life is pretty pathetic, and I think he's sick of it. He's got a good heart Melody." He looks at me deeply as he says the last bit, and he almost seems to be begging for something. "He wants good things in his life; he wants to make some changes. But he's too scared. I think he thinks he'll only make everyone's life, who's in his life, awful because of whatever is creating his maddening fear. Whatever happened to him has made his logic go completely off kilter. I guess what I'm trying to say is, his fear makes him into someone other than he really is. The real Jack, the person inside he could be, would be, without the fear, is amazing."

"So, someone has to quiet his fears, help him see what's realistic?" I ask, not sure what this has to do with me.

Calvin nods slowly, "Yeah, that about covers it. But, this person has to be pretty amazing." He sounds discouraged and he looks up at the stars, away from me, his shoulders sagging a little.

"Then it isn't me," I mutter hotly.

"Do you love him?" Calvin asks flatly, sounding a bit angry again.

I stare at him, setting my jaw defiantly, but the truth falls out of my mouth before I can stop it. "Yes." It comes with anger though. I don't want to be angry that I love someone. Love shouldn't be that way. I think back to my childhood, my teen years, dreaming about falling in love. At this point, I wonder if it wouldn't be better to have never fallen in love, lived my life as an old maid wondering what it would be like. Because loving Jack made me angry, and loving Jack got me into serious trouble, and loving Jack just hurt.

"Don't you get it?" He turns toward me, leaning in a little. He's getting excited now and all I want to do is get up and walk away. In every sense.

"No," I growl. "I don't get it."

"Mel," I look back at him and he goes on, a light in his eyes, "If you can love him, I mean really love him, even after what he did, he'll start to trust you. And he doesn't trust anybody. And if he can trust you, he'll open up to you, and if he opens up to you, you can help him see the truth, and things will better!"

"Calvin," I turn toward him now, trying to stay calm as I speak. "How the hell can I help him see the truth of himself, when all I can see is what he believes he is? An arrogant, self centered jerk who doesn't give a damn about anyone beyond himself unless there's a profit for him? I can't fix him!"

He turns away like I've slapped him. His chin quivers a little as he says, "You can't." Then he looks back up at me with shining eyes and whispers, "I'm not asking for you to forgive him overnight. God knows you shouldn't do that till you're honest about it. But for the sake of both of you, just let time heal it Mel. Keep in mind that you did fall in love with him, and the bits you fell in love with are the real Jack. Try. Just try, please. Give it time. Maybe you'll start to see what I mean. Can you do that?"

My mind reels with the possibility, and the anger grows. But I can't deny the little tiny feeling deep down inside of me that's begging me to heed the boy's words. A part of me wants to find out if Calvin's telling the truth.

But I'm scared.

With that thought I feel like a hypocrite, and tears sting my eyes again. Maybe, just maybe Calvin's right. But I'm going to do this carefully, and I'm not going to let Jack onto it until I'm absolutely certain that I'm doing the right thing.

"Fine," I say in a quiet, but vehement whisper. "Time, but that doesn't mean anything at this point. We'll see. I'm still not sure if you're just feeding me shit. Because frankly, I look at him now, and all you say just feels like a big pile of shit. It doesn't fit."

He doesn't say anything, but he looks like he knows something I don't. Of course he does. He knows a whole lot about Jack I don't know and he's not going to tell me. But he also seems proud of himself, and he confirms that when he says, "You'll see Melody. You will." He looks like he's greatly looking forward to telling me, _I told you so_.

He gets up and walks away to take the helm from Jack. Jack hands it over, his body language stiff. I wonder if he knows we were talking about him. I pull and angry stance, knowing he can't see my face in the dark. I turn and lay on my side, curling up tight.

As I start to drift to sleep the images of him rescuing me start to march through my mind. Especially the look he gave me when Dillon had said, _God, she really dois loive him! _

The naked fear that had been there, and the pleading. He'd been silently begging forgiveness.

I start to go back over all Dillon had said and done to him, taunting him with the knife, telling him about some story in the papers, calling him by a different name. _Jonathan Nikolaus_?

The scars on Jack's back come back into my mind with clarity. Obviously there are things I don't know, things that might make Calvin right.

My heart softens a little. But my resolve to be careful doesn't. At this point I have to keep in mind that it could all just be an act, more deception. Because at this point I don't, can't trust him. He'll have to earn that back. If he can.

And if he is broken, that doesn't give him the right to break me.

_**Aw, it's so complicated. :) Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thanks so much to my faithful readers! You're the fuel to my writing engines. Yay for lame metaphors, but seriously. Thank you! **_


	23. Indecisive

**_A/N: FINALLY AN UPDATE! I'm getting ideas for how this is going to work finally! :) Sorry it's kind of short. _**

_No, I can't take one more step towards you, because all that's waiting is regret. . ._

_And who do you think you are_  
_ Running 'round leaving scars_  
_ Collecting your jar of hearts_  
_ And tearing love apart_  
_ You're gonna catch a cold_  
_ From the ice inside your soul_  
_ So don't come back for me_  
_ Who do you think you are. . ._

_Christina Perri- Jar of Hearts  
_

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_**Indecisive**_

I wake early to find the air slightly crisp with the morning chill. I sit up stiffly and arch to crack my back. Most everyone on the little boat is awake, except Toby, still soundly out wrapped up tight in several blankets. Calvin is sitting close to him whittling something. I'm surprised to see that everyone is looking quite serene.

When I twist around I spot Jack at the tiller, his compass flipped open. He's studying it intently. I stand a little shakily and wander over to him, nodding at William and Elizabeth as I pass them. They nod back and Elizabeth smiles at me.

"Where are we going, Jack?" I ask flatly, keeping my face as blank as possible.

"South-ish," he says with a quick scowl.

"That's very helpful," I bite.

"Yes, well, I'm quite as confused as you dahling."

"Don't call me that."

"Fine."

"Fine." I look around and try to gauge myself, get my own bearings. "Southward?"

"Yes, quite Southward," he looks at me sideways, his lips pursing and his eyes widening a touch. It makes him look stark raving mad. As usual.

"We're. . . heading for the treasure?" I fold my arms and glare at him, leaning my weight on one foot.

"Ah? Are we?" he almost squeaks. "I'm jist followin' the _Pearl_ love. Trying to catch up with the _Pearl_."

"Why is the _Pearl_ heading for the treasure?" Wait. . . how does he even know where it is. I never told him. So maybe he is just following the _Pearl_. Maybe.

"Lo—ah, Melody. That would likely be because the person who is likely in charge is heading that way, even though I specifically told Calvin to inform Anamaria that she was in charge in lieu of my absence. But given the personality of your father, he likely took over anyways!"

"Well, how did this person find—WHAT? Did you just say. . . He's still on your ship?"

His cheek twitches and he nods. "Yes, ah, he is." He grins at me in that pathetic, evasive, innocent way.

"Oh dear God!" I stare up at the sky for a moment, realizing that everyone has glanced our way and they're all looking at me. Mr. Norrington has one eyebrow up, yet he's somehow managing a sort of scowl at the same time. I sigh and look at the deck for a moment, forcing myself to breathe calmly. "Okay. Jack. Why is my father still on your ship?"

"Because he was looking for you. He. . . sent me. . . to get you. . . after he found out. . . said it was my responsibility. . . after . . .what happened. That is, I was sort of arrested. By James. But your father gave me some things. To help me find you. I guess. He scowls at this point. "And then I escaped and came to do just that." He looks miserable for a moment.

"So, you didn't come on your own then after all? My father sent you?" I snap.

"I did too!" He turns to me, his eyes going big. He straightens then and looks painfully sideways saying, "I did come on my own. He just. . . well. . .I. I really did, I wanted to come Melody. I'm. . . I did. . ." he falters.

A hundred questions filter through my head that I'm dying to ask him, but the close proximity of the boat stops me. Instead I ignore him and I say, "Well, my father is leading us right to the treasure. Which means he's leading Dillon right to the treasure."

"Not my fault, lo—ah, Melly."

I turn on him with an angry glare and say hotly, "This is all your fault Jack Sparrow!" I leave the Captain part out quite purposefully. "All of it! If you hadn't picked me up out of that bloody alley and kidnapped me in the first place,_ none_ of this would have happened!" My voice steadily raises and his steadily inches backwards, flinching more deeply by the word.

When I'm finish I stare at him for several long seconds, taking in his pitiful expression. I growl and turn to walk away, back toward the bow. I lean over the railing and stare with furrowed brows as the boats prow cuts through the churning waves, sending white spray up to sprinkle my face. I jump when a voice next to me says, "You've ended up with the wrong sort, haven't you?"

In surprise I turn to see James Norrington standing next to me.

"What do you care?" I snap, turning to stare out ahead of us again.

"I can likely help you get justice," he says calmly, ignoring my rudeness.

A quick glance at him sideways tells me he's serious and I'm surprised that I feel suddenly defensive. "What do you mean? You want to help me put Jack up on a gallows?"

"Yes. I do. He kidnapped you?"

I falter. "He. . . sort of. But not really. I mean, yes he did. But he also helped me. At the time. And he did rescue me. But. . ." I stop. "No. You know what. I don't care what he did to me, I will not help you kill him."

He turns and leans his back against the rail casually, resting his elbows on it at his sides. "You're in love with him? Are you?"

I scowl. "That's not your business sir."

"You deserve better," he says lightly.

I find I have the urge to hit him, and it's quite difficult to restrain myself. "How do you know? You great lummox! You don't even know me."

"No, but you do." He looks like he wants to say more.

"Go away," I growl. "I'm not helping you and I'm not letting you help me kill people. Because I'm not going to kill anybody anyways."

He walks away, looking irritatingly amused and I wonder why I just in a roundabout way defended Jack to him, and why I just spoke the way I did to a naval officer. But I almost can't bring myself to care. The man is just as arrogant as Jack. Maybe more than Jack.

I turn and look at James from the corner of my eye. He's unfortunately rather good looking and I admit it whole heartedly. _He'd be a good match. He's got a solid, honest profession. Handsome, respectable. . . WHAT THE HELL?_

"I'm going mad."

_I love Jack. Why am I looking at James. That's ridiculous! _

_ Love Jack. I HATE Jack. He's a bastard. I hate him. _

_ I hate men. _

I turn back toward the ocean and grip the rail in attempt to strangle it. "I hate men. I hate them all."

I turn around again to face the boat. I glare across the deck at Jack and feel my anger grow, covering up the hurt. I want to throttle him, tear him to pieces, and make him feel it all. All the pain. I need him to feel the ice I felt from him, the cold, hard truth of it all. No man with a soul could do what he'd done. Truly.

_I love him. _

_ So what? _

_ I do, I love him._

_ It doesn't matter. He's not worth the trouble. Not worth the attempt. Finding your way into his heart is truly impossible. If he ever felt anything at all for you, it was fleeting. You could have gotten killed because of what he did to you. Or worse. It was almost worse. Damn what Calvin said! You can't trust him._

_ I can't trust him. . . _

I want to cry. The tears well up and I can't blink them back. I turn around hastily and sit down, pulling my knees to my chest. Facing away from everyone I let the tears fall, let the pain break from the anger, let myself feel it.

I love him, and I can't trust him, and we're being chased by evil men, and I've never been so lost or scared or confused in my entire life.

I don't know what to do. . .


	24. Confessions and No Promises

**_A/N: It's coming to me again! :) I'm so excited to be writing again. _**

_I could give you more_  
_than just the shape of things_  
_break every word_  
_begin it all again_  
_your name on a white sheet_  
_pure lace shot with passion_  
_but as love lies_  
_bleeding in your hands_

_heaven sends you_  
_no promises_

_life in your new world_  
_turning round and round_  
_so make some sense_  
_where there's no sense at all_

_I give you_  
_no promises_  
_but if you should fall_

_No Promises: by Icehouse  
_

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

_**Confessions and No Promises**_

The day passed by in mostly silence. I sit by the railing at the bow for most of it, occasionally glancing back at the tiller where Jack and Calvin are working and talking. Occasionally a burst of laughter filtered over from one of them. Will and Elizabeth sit together looking resigned to their fate at being here for a while. And Toby still sleeps. Every so often Calvin and Jack move over and check on him. After they wander off again I find myself sitting by the sleeping teenager who'd been my lifeline through my days with Dillon.

I stroke his blond locks away from his face. Jack had put it back into place after we'd climbed up onto this little boat. It's still slightly crooked. I sigh and pull the blanket tighter around him, hoping he'll wake soon.

I stand and go back to my place at the bow.

James has been keeping to himself, like me, but he keeps looking at me curiously and I shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

Part of me wants to explore my options with him. I shake my head. My father was somewhere in front of us, and he was going to get me safely home. Not a stranger. I sigh and glance back at toward the tiller to see Calvin holding a small spy glass up to one eye, looking behind us. He drops it and turns to, saying something that makes Jack curse loudly and take it from him. I stand up and walk over to them, asking, "What? What's wrong?"

Calvin and Jack both turn to me and I'm aware of the others eyes on us as well. It's Calvin who speaks. "Dillon's ship is be'ind us. For certain. They've turned about and are after us."

I take a deep, sustaining breath and nod once. I can't do anymore than that knowing if I do I might lose my composure. And I don't need to do that!

"They're faster than us Jack," William says, his airy voice a little harsh. It was true, the little boat we were in was not made for speed. I look over at Jack who's got his lips pressed together so tightly they're a thin line. "How close to the _Pearl_ do you think we are?" William asks.

Jack shakes his head once. "I don't know." He slaps the spy glass back into Calvin's palm and the boy heads to the front of the boat to search the horizon ahead of us. We all wait rather tensely while he does it. Even James looks on edge. At least he can see the difference between merciless, psycho, pirates through and through, and Jack and his 'pirates.'

There I go! Defending him again. Even to myself. Oh bloody hell! I manage to turn my snarl inward and I make a funny coughing noise instead. It didn't sound natural either way and Elizabeth gives me and odd look. I look back at her innocently, a look I likely learned from Jack. She just furrow's her brows and looks away from me and I sigh softly. I'm losing my mind. . .

Calvin finally stops and seems to focus on something ahead of us. "I fink I see 'er!" He says excitedly. "Yep! Tis the Pearl!" Jack clears his throat and we all look at him. He points to William, and then to the wheel. William scowls but takes it from him. I raise an eyebrow and smirk. There's a rope to hold the wheel in place when no one can man it. But Jack of course, has to assert his captaincy and make someone else do as he asks them. The Captain walks up to Calvin, swaying as per usual and takes the glass from him again. Calvin shakes his head and I can clearly picture the boy rolling his eyes. I don't know how he does it, puts up with Jack to that degree, that is.

Oddly, Calvin seems to be the more mature of the two of them. He seems like the big brother, though he's shorter and much younger, patiently putting up with Jack's issues and antics, half the time going along with them. I wonder where their relationship began and what the exact nature of it is.

Jack scans the horizon, focusing in the direction Calvin's pointing. He stops finally, finding what he's looking for. He turns then, dropping the glass with a huge grin on his face. "My _Pearl_, is indeed, in sight!"

"Barely," Calvin says more quietly.

Jack scowls at him and the boy just raises his eyebrows innocently. I'm going to say it was a very fair copy of the look I'd given Elizabeth not two minutes ago. He must have learned it from Jack too. Jack's scowl only deepens and Calvin has the gall to giggle at him. Jack rolls his eyes and swaggers back our way.

"Great," James speaks up. "So, we get back to your ship, then what?" His tone has that dubious, slightly-amused-by-the-whole-situation-but-I'd-rather-be-_anywhere_-else, ring to it.

"Jas," Jack says, walking up to face the other man. James is half a head taller than Jack, but Jack doesn't seem to notice. His hat makes their height more equal than not, and this apparently is enough for Jack. He gets up in James's face and says, mouth twisting, "we shall figure that out upon our arrival. Savvy?"

James has back up a step and his back is curved away from Jack as far as it can go without him losing his rigidness.

Why Jack had to make such a show of a short sentence, I could not tell you. I shake my head and roll my eyes again. Jack walks past me back to the wheel. William lets go of it and Jack glares at him. He takes it up again hurriedly, rather jumpily in my opinion, and the grin Jack gives him splits his face in two. It would seem that in some twisted way, Jack has power of William too.

"Is there any way we can move faster?" Elizabeth asks. "At this rate we'll reach the _Pearl_ the same time that _Achelous _reaches us."

"Tha's a very good point," Calvin chimes in. "I say Jack pushes us again."

Jack's face falters again and Calvin gives him a grin that I'm certain is infuriating to the Captain.

"I'll push," I say lightly. I certainly don't mind being in the water and an excuse to get out of the middle of this awkward tension is good enough for me.

"Fine," Jack says, a little too eagerly. "Then I shall too."

_Great! Well. . . go figure. _And it's too late to say no now or I'll look like a fool. I manage to hold back my glare and I go to the other end of the boat. "Elizabeth," I say, "Would you kindly help me a moment?"

"Of course," she says, coming over to me away from the men. I pick up a blanket and turn to her gratefully.

"I'm not going to get my clothes wet again," I say to her, handing her the blanket. "If you'll just hold this up so I can get into the water without having anyone see me in my skin that shouldn't, I'll be forever grateful."

She smiles at me and says, "Are you doing any better this morning?" She holds the blanket up spread out to keep me out of view of the men.

"I'm still bloody unsure of what I feel or think." I have no idea why I'm being so open with this woman. I don't even know her, but she's the closest thing to a friend I guess that's going to remotely understand. She is a woman after all, the only other one around and I feel like for that reason alone she deserves my kindness. And she's being quite patient and kind, if a bit annoyed at some things. "I'll figure it out. Right now I just need to focus on getting out of this mess with my life."

"That's an excellent idea," she says as I unlace my bodice and slide out of it. I pull my shirt off and put the bodice back on, thanking God it covers the majority of my breasts. Not there is much there to cover in the first place. I slide my skirts off then and nod my thanks at her before I dive in quickly.

My legs fuse and my fins sprout, and I breathe a sigh of relief through the gill slits that open at my neck. I feel better already. I swim around to the back of the little boat and wait for Jack. A flurry of bubbles announces his arrival. A moment later he swims toward me, still wearing his bandanna. I wonder how it is he can stand the heat with all that damn hair. I surface and he follows suit.

"You sure you're up to this?" He asks me and I give him a sideways look. Men. They always have to play the hero. Even when they're the ones who mostly caused the problems in the first place.

"Yes, you mutton head, I'm fine," I say sharply. He falls silent and presses his hands to the hull. I see him strain to start the motion and I follow his example. We begin moving faster and I thank God. "Jack," I ask, "are we really going to be able to catch up? I mean with the _Pearl _being as fast as she is. . ."

"We'll catch up," he growls, like he's trying to convince himself. I choose not to speak anymore. The minutes pass by in tense silence and a familiar buzzing starts to make my head spin. The tension and Jack with his set jaw are making me ache for noise. The calm roll of the waves and their slapping against the ship do little to calm me. I look over at him, realizing that my heart is pounding. Curse him! My heart still can't keep itself in check when he's this close to me. It doesn't help that his bare arms are right next to me, dripping with water.

My mind starts to replay that look on his face when he was tied to that mast, that look that he gave me when Dillon had said that I really did love him. . . my chest starts to constrict.

"Jack," I blurt, "Why did you do it?"

He looks over at me, startled. Then he looks away, his jaw tightening further and his brows knitting.

"Do what exactly Melly? I'm certain you have a list by now," he says bitterly, but it sounds self recriminating. I hope I'm not imagining that.

Oh dear God, I'm still hoping aren't I? _I really am. . ._

I swallow hard, blinking back hot tears. I decide to admit the whole truth, though voicing it brings the clarity back and I feel sick. "You're right. I do have a list," my words are almost timid. "But I'll start with. . .why you just. . .handed me over? To him?"

Jack bows his head and it goes partway under water. When he lifts it again he turns to look at me and his eyes are sadder than I've ever seen them, save that moment on Dillon's ship. "Because. . .I'm. . . scared," he says in a croaky voice.

I stare at him confused, not having the slightest idea what he means by that.

He sighs and I see his mind working. To my surprise he continues, "I wanted. . .the treasure Melly. And not all of it, not even close. I just. . . I heard Malcolm talking-that night when I let the crew have their party- about how there was a mer treasure that contained many magical artifacts. Even possibly things that could make you live forever."

I watch him warily, my heart sinking. He'd planned this. When my heart finally hits the pit of my stomach my lip trembles and I look away from him, bowing my head behind my arm so he can't see my face, and the tears that are falling now, mixing into the sea."When I realized what you had. . .I just. . .couldn't help it. . .I. . ." he falters.

I want to hear him admit it. I need to know, so I can move on. "So. . .so. . .that kiss. What you. . .said to me. . .that night you paid me, it was a lie? It was all just an act so you could . . .take the key?" Despite all my attempts to speak evenly, I'm sure it's obvious to him that I've begun crying.

He's suddenly not next to me anymore, not pushing. I drop my hands and turn around to see him just starting at me, bobbing up and down with the roll of the waves, but otherwise stationary. "No, Melody. It was not all a lie. It was not all an act. It was, yes, part of my plan. But once I had that necklace off of you after you'd fallen asleep, I felt sick. I almost put it back and I wish every goddamn day that I had!"

"Why? Then what?" I ask, my voice breaking.

He swims closer to me, so he's only a foot in front of me, "Because then you wouldn't hate me, and then I'd hate myself less and maybe. . . maybe. . ."

I swallow and look up into his eyes. "Maybe what?"

"It doesn't matter," he whispers, his voice cracking, but only a little. It seems he refused to let his emotions go beyond a certain point.

"It does too," I say quietly.

"No, Melly. It doesn't. Because you told me to take you home. And I will," he sounds almost even again.

I stare at him, my heart screaming at me to tell him I don't want him to, that I want it to matter, that I want it to be okay. But the words won't come. I do manage to say, "I don't hate you."

For a moment he looks stunned, but his face smooth's again and he asks, "Why?" with a breath that makes it clear that it doesn't make any sense to him.

I look down, then back up at him and swallow the knot that has gathered in my throat. "Because. . . because of. . . of the look you gave me. When Dillon said. . .that I . . . really did. . . love. . .you."

His brows knit and his expression comes as close to crying as I've ever seen it. Again, he wipes it away quickly, but I can still see the distress on his face.

"You came for me Jack. I mean. . .I'm sure my father had a great deal to do with it, but. . . you came for me. What. . .what changed your mind?"

"That's. . .a very complicated explanation Melly," he says just loud enough for me to hear him over the waves. "One I'm not sure I can give you."

"You'll give it to me, Jack Sparrow," I say to him firmly. "I think I deserve to understand after what you did to me."

He takes my shoulders in his hands and leans in closer, his nose is almost touching mine. "It goes so much deeper than you know! Please, Melody, I know have no right to ask this of you, but I beg of you, do not make me tell you why I'm so afraid, and why it drove me to the point of

. . . doing what I did. Please. . ."

He's begging me. My God, he's begging me.

But I need to know. "I won't make you today Jack. But I need to know. I need to understand."

His head hangs down, and I feel a ripple, a shudder go through him. His cheek twitches and his body does a funny involuntary jerk, barely noticeable, but definitely there. I'm reminded of that rope snapping. . .

Breaking.

"Alright," he chokes the words out, like he's forcing the whole ocean through the eye of a needle all at once. His hands gripping my shoulders suddenly squeeze tighter and he goes a shade paler.

"Jack!" I touch his face and lift it to my view again. He stares at me, numbly. "Jack," I say more softly. "I won't. . ." I won't what? Hurt him? God, I shouldn't care!

_But you do care. Stop fighting it. It's not going to change._

I swallow hard again. It's not going to change. I love him.

Is it worth the risk again? Should I really, I mean really, give him another chance.

_He did come for you. . ._

My thumb rubs his cheek, mostly of its own accord. I find myself watching it move half fascinated, but it's drawing me closer. I move my face up, pull his down, till my lips meet his. We both hang suspended for a moment, shocked that this is happening. But I soften my lips, wondering what the hell I'm doing! What the hell I'm getting myself back into! I must be completely out of my mind! Mad!

He responds quickly, timidly at first. His grip on my shoulders softens and his arms come around me, pulling me close to him. My arms go all the way around his neck and I open my mouth to his kiss.

After what feels like an eternity I pull away, gasping for air. It occurs to me completely out of nowhere that if I was kissing him underwater, and he had that necklace on, as he does now, that we wouldn't have to break apart. My face goes hot and I'm certain it's a lovely shade of red.

He looks at me and I look away, so embarrassed that I almost pull from his embrace. "Melly," he whispers. "You're mad."

I look up at him, unable to keep my eyes averted; especially with the tender, awed way those words had come from him. It was utterly out of context.

"I know," I nearly grumble. "I must be. . ."

His lips turn up just slightly at the corners.

"I'm not making you any promises Jack," I add, but my tone is as kind as I can make it and still be firm at the same time.

"I know. I don't expect you to. . .I don't deserve your promises."

I touch his face again, "Jack, I give you no promises, but I'll. . . I meant what I said, when I said that. . .I liked you a lot. And despite all my arguing with myself, that hasn't changed. I won't run away from you. But I won't . . ." I make my voice firm as I finish, "I won't give it all to you. I don't know if we'll ever be anything more than what we are, because I don't trust you. And I don't know if I ever can. But, for some god damned reason I care about you, and I can't walk away yet. Not without at least making sense of all of this."

He stares at me, his eyes rather round. Finally he nods slowly, "You are. . .quite mad." He chuckles without humor then asks, "That night, do you remember when I told you I wouldn't take your virtue, and then I just said 'Do you,' then told you never mind?"

"Yes," I say slowly, my eyes narrowing. "Why?"

"I," his voice cracks again, but he steadies it quickly. "I knew what I was going to do, that I was going to take the key. I was about to ask you, if you trusted me. But then I couldn't. Melly, I'm so sorry. . ."

I take in the information and feel angry at my own stupid naivety, and momentarily angry at him. But I study his face a moment longer and know that admitting what he'd just admitted must have been quite difficult. "Jack, I' m not forgiving you. Not today. I want to, some day. . .but not today. . . but. . .thank you. For telling me."

He nods and I sigh. I turn my head and realize that the little boat is several leagues away from us. "We'd better catch up."

He nods and I let go of him, hating the emptiness that comes with that. And I hate that I hate it. I dive down and hear him follow, swimming fast and fluid as I can in the direction of our boat. I hope we've almost reached the _Pearl_.

**_A/N: Reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading! _**


	25. What The Hell Just Happened?

_**A/N: I'm on a roll eh? Also, some of you might hate me or love me for what Jack reveals in this chapter. Mind you, I did not originally intend to make this information public! And yet, I did. Oh boy. **_

_I must have sneezed_  
_ On knees, I freeze_  
_ I mean I just choked up_  
_ But somehow I slept_  
_ I dream, I mean_  
_ I dreamt of nothing_  
_ I'm able to breathe_  
_ The sweet relief_  
_ Now that you're here for me_  
_ A northern degree_  
_ Dove into me_  
_ Now I'm recovering_

_ Now I only want you to see_  
_ My favorite part of me_  
_ And not my ugly side_  
_ And not my ugly side. . . ugly side._

_ So hook up a C.B. Wave a way_  
_ For conversation flow_  
_ I'm shown to your cage, to wage this rage_  
_ Don't let me go_  
_ A kick and a scream is all that seems_  
_ To mean a lot thus far_  
_ I won't let you on my stage, my page_  
_ **You can't know**_**!**  
_** Yet you have to know!**_

_Now I only want you to see_  
_ My favorite part of me_  
_ And not my ugly side_  
_ And not my ugly side. . . ugly side._

_So calm... and it's so calm..._  
_ And now it's dark_  
_ I look for you to light my heart_  
_ I'm between the moon and where you are_  
_ I know... I can't be far_

_Ugly Side -Blue October  
_

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

_**What The Hell Just Happened?**_

Jack climbs up onto the boat with Calvin's help. He falls in and then stands up. I'm aware of Elizabeth facing me and not turning around. I thank heaven the angle of being in the water and he on the boat keeps me from seeing anything below his waist. Once he's got his shirt over his head and I know he's decent I reach my hand up to take Elizabeth's. She grasps my arm firmly and Jack grabs my other, hoisting me up over the side of the boat. I curl up quickly as my fin starts to split and I thank heaven when a blanket falls over my right away. I turn around to smile at Calvin who put it there.

Jack walks away and I sigh.

"What were you talking about?" Elizabeth asks me, handing me my clothing.

"Difficult things," is all I say in response. I take my clothes and say, "Thank you, very much." She holds the blanket up for me again and I dress quickly.

"Did it got well?" She asks, sitting down next to me.

"I think so . . . it's going to be a long road though, and I don't know if the end of it is going to be a good place or not." After a moment I ask her, "How did you know? I mean really know, that William was the right man for you?"

She smiles at me prettily, she's very beautiful. The only thing I find I dislike about her carriage is the way she sort of juts her chin out. It appears a little arrogant. She answers me, "I knew him since we were children, and I think I always loved him. My father wasn't pleased at first. He wanted me to marry James. And I . . . I told James yes at one point. To save William. But in the end it was William. I just knew I loved him most, that we understood each other best. It was meant to be."

I'm not sure her answer helps me any. William seems like a very normal-ish sort of person. Maybe a little gullible when it comes to Jack. . . I mean really. . . but a kind, mostly respectable, good man. Easy.

I glance at Jack who's squatting close to Calvin, both of them leaning over Toby. Jack's glaring at Calvin though and I get the feeling they're talking about what just happened.

"Well, I certainly don't understand him. He's one massive confusing puzzle and just when I think I've got him all put together and figured out, I realize that that there are more pieces missing. It comes in layers."

"Melody," she says. "I'm not expert, heaven knows I'm not. But I think if it's truly supposed to be, it will work out. And if not, then not. . .for the best." She seems to think the latter is the better option. This irritates me a great deal. Jack may be crazy, but that doesn't mean my feelings are delusional or anything. I love him, despite it all, and I'm not going to deny it anymore. Even if it makes me crazy too!

I simply nod, unable to come up with a good response for her. I stand up then, thank her again quickly, and walk toward Calvin and Jack. I wish Toby would wake up.

"How is he doing?" I ask.

Jack looks at me with worried eyes. "I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. He didn't lose that much blood and he there's nothing wrong with him. Nothing at all. I have no idea. His breathing is normal; he's got a pulse and a good heartbeat."

I kneel down, wondering why the hell Jack sounds like he knows what he's talking about, but I put it off. I touch my hands to the boy's face, smoothing his hair back as I'd done earlier. Get some water, "I say softly, we need to try to get him awake." I want this boy to be okay. He's dear to me, though I know very little about him. To my surprise Calvin practically leaps to do my bidding. Once he's gone to get a bucket of water I ask Jack, "What . . . exactly is your relationship with him?"

He gives me a stunned look, and he looks almost like he's got his hand caught in the cookie jar. I furrow my brows, and he looks more nervous.

"Currently?" He asks.

"Yes, currently. . ." I say skeptically.

He swallows and says, "He's. . .my best friend."

"I thought you didn't need friends," I can't help the bite in my tone. He winces.

"I lied. But he's . . . the only one I've really got. Not that I talk. . .to him. Really. I've told him very little. He's just too damn observant for his own good. He's . . . wise."

I smile just a little at the way Jack speaks about Calvin. Like an older brother. "So, he's your best friend?"

"Yes," Jack says, obviously hoping the conversation will end here.

"Jack, have you ever been completely honest with a woman? With anyone for that matter?" I try to keep my tone light now. I've no need to have him more upset.

He glances sideways at me and says, "My mother." I can't help the fact that I laugh. But his face falls and I stop.

"Really? No one since your mother?" I ask him, not really surprised.

"Really. . ." he sounds guilty again, his nose twitches in that funny way and his eyes are shifting.

"Why don't you start with me." I say, and it was not a question. "What _was_ your relationship with Calvin? Since you said you're currently friends, what was he before?"

He stares at me nervously then finally says. I'm expecting him to say that they hated each other and Jack was perhaps mean to him, or vice versa. What he does say stuns me so completely that I almost hit him.

He gathers courage quite visibly and says, "He was my lover."

I choke, and then sputter to a cough. Once I can breathe again I stare at him, certain he's kidding. "That's really not funny Ja-"

"I'm quite serious," he snaps. This is . . . touchy I realize.

"Jack," I say more calmly, "Did you . . .?"

"I didn't hurt him!" He says so defensively that I actually almost fall backwards. That familiar hardness returns to his eyes. He continues more softly, "He started it . . . he's . . . well, he's not attracted to women. He's attracted to men."

"But. . .you're not? Are you?" I ask carefully.

"No, I'm really not . . . but. . . Calvin . . . he. . ." his voice goes very small. "He loved me. Loves me. . ." he whispered. There is meaning _behind_ his words.

I stare at him. "Jack, what are you talking about?"

He says, "I will tell you, Melly. You told me I have to tell you everything, and I will, but not right now. What you need to know now is that, we are not like that anymore. And we never will be again. But we are close. But not that way any longer. . ." He looks like he wants to sink into the deck and disappear.

I'm not sure how I feel, I can't think about it too hard. I'm almost disgusted however, unsure of what to think! I want to demand he tell me everything, right then and there, but Calvin comes back and he pours the water over Toby's face. The boy, thank God, splutters and his eyes come wearily open. He jumps and backs up in a frightened way.  
"Toby," I say gently, "It's me. You're with friends. You're off Dillon's ship." He stares at me, looks at Jack, then at Calvin, then at me again, and he flings himself into my arms where he starts to cry. I hold him, feeling odd, having never even really held a crying child and now I've got a teenage boy sobbing in my arms. Awkwardly I whisper soothingly to him while Calvin and Jack look at each other worriedly, then back at Toby.

Slowly the boy calms down and he sits up, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Oh Go'," he mutters. Ah'm sorreh. . ."

"No worries," Calvin pipes in. "S'good for yeh." The boy grins, and Toby manages a smile back. They sort of stare at each other for a moment before Calvin says, "Joo 'ungry?"

Toby nods, "Yeh, I am."

Calvin helps him up and leads him off to find something to eat. Jack's staring after them with an eyebrow arched, looking very thoughtful. I glance back at the boys and Jack's thoughts dawn on me. I blurt, "Oh god! I can't believe this. . ."

"Your innocence Melly, will never cease to be adorable." I gape at him, my eyes widening.

"Jack Sparrow!" I say much louder than I'd intended. Everyone turns in our direction. And curse James he looks like he's going to laugh, all arrogant and cocky. I lower my voice and say, "this is no time to attempt to flatter me. For the love of heaven . . . I . . ."

"What?" He asks almost snarkily. "Melly, my life is incredibly messed up. You don't know the half of it. That's just one of my secrets. If you can't handle this thing, then you'd better kill any feelings you have for me now, because there's more messed up where that came from. I have awful, dark, deep, frightening secrets. The very things you demanded only thirty minutes ago to know all about. If you really want to know, if you really care, about me, then you're going to have to have a very, very open mind." He stares at me, eyes fixed and stony, that muscle in his cheek twitching. I realize he's not swaying, and not acting completely furious. Just tense and serious.

Like a normal human being, and like everything he's saying is holding his future in the balance. I just stare at him.

"If you don't care Melody, if those feelings you have for me don't run deep, don't run true, then you had better turn and walk away right now. Because I will not bare my secrets to you and have you stomp on them. The things you want me to tell you, are things I have never spoken aloud to _anyone._ I beg you not to tear me to pieces. I don't trust you, and you don't trust me, but I'm trying to put some faith in you. If I can't do that, please tell me now. I beg you."

He's scared. I stare into his eyes and find fear in them so deep, so cold, that I shiver.

And I'm scared suddenly. How can I possibly know the answer to this? I never admitted to him that I loved him, but he's insinuating to me that I had better or this was pointless. _Putting faith in me?_ _Does he love me?_

"Jack, do you love me?" I ask suddenly. I suppress the urge to slap my hands over my mouth.

His brow knit fretfully, nervously. "My God," he says breathily, looking at the deck. He looks back up at me and says slowly, and very quietly, voice deep with conviction and agitation, "I cannot answer that Melly, not today."

My brows furrow and I stare into his eyes. There is a gravity in them, an honestly. I tilt my head. _Oh my Lord, he does. He loves me. . . but he. . .can't say it. _

_ Not today._

He's afraid to get hurt. My mouth hangs open in a fashion that I'm sure looks completely stupid, but I'm at an utter loss for words. Jack Sparrow, loves me, and _he's_ scared of getting hurt.

"Okay," I finally manage to say and I feel a strange sort of silent understanding pass between us.

"Jack, I'll try to be. . .open minded."

His stare, still unwavering, goes if possible, more serious. He gives the bare hint of a nod. His eyes look scared like a hunted rabbit's. But the understanding deepens.

"When we get back onto the Pearl, I will tell you about Calvin. The rest will have to wait." He looks away, "I'm not . . . ready yet." His jaw is hard as rock. He's never been this _honest_ before. Not in his entire life.

I nod and say, "Alright then."

He manages a short smile and he walks away toward the tiller.

I stare at him stunned.

What the hell just happened?

We just admitted to loving each other, somehow, without actually saying it. He's trying to trust me and I'm trying to trust him.

And bloody hell? He and Calvin? "Oh boy. . ." I for what has to be the ten thousandth time wonder what I'm getting myself into. I turn and my heart skips a little when I realize that the Pearl is close, and Dillon's ship is just as close behind us. But we'll reach the Pearl in an hour at most. I hope sooner because the closer I look, the faster it seems Dillon's ship is moving.

**_A/N: Please Review. :) Thanks for reading!_**


	26. Ridiculous (Updated AN)

**(Dear readers, ****This is the same last chapter that was posted before. In order to comply to rules I had to keep story in order to post an Authors Note. Please scroll to the bottom to read so you can be informed of what is going on. Thank you!) **

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

_**Ridiculous**_

After what seems like an eternity we come within shouting distance of the _Pearl_. They're already waving at us and its clear the crew spotted us a while ago. It seems my father realized who it was because the ship slowed a little.

We manage to get up alongside the massive ship and a rope ladder is thrown down over the side. Jack maneuvers out little boat up close and says, "Up, all of yeh, up."

William and Elizabeth make the climb first disappearing over the railing. I glance warily behind us the _Achelous_, closing distance. Jack gives me a look and I follow James up the ladder and the second I step onto the deck I find myself in my father's arms, with his mildly exotic scent surrounding me. The smell of him takes me back in time to my childhood and I immediately feel safer, feel like I'm home.

And I immediately start to cry. He strokes my hair soothingly. He never spoke much when trying to console me and it's no different now. He's a man of few words, but that's just the way I love him.

"We jist gonna let it drift off?" Calvin asks and I turn around and mop at my face to see Jack and Calvin and Toby standing looking over the rail.  
"Yes," Jack says with a shrug and strange cock of his head. "No use to us now." He turns around and his eyes harden on my father. I glance up at my father's face and find it just as hard, if not harder.  
"Kevin," Jack says and I look back at him.  
After a pause my father says, "How did you get to Port Royale, escape, then find this. . . Dillon, and save my daughter, all before I even had time to find where the _Achelous_ was?" He sounds rather irritated, but I pick a twinge of shocked admiration in the undertones of his voice.

Jack's lips curl into a very, very proud smile and it reaches his eyes, making them gleam with pride. "Mr. Harper," Jack says, tipping his head just a little. Then he bows gallantly, stands up straight and finishes with, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Kevin's brow just arches. Jack's face maintains its pleased expression for a long moment before it slowly fades to a blank mask, save for the subtle upturn at the corners of his lips. He glances at me and I catch a glimpse of nervous as it flashes over his expression. Immediately

though he looks away and shouts, "Mister Gibbs!"

Gibbs steps up from the gathering of men around standing in a semi circle. "Aye, Cap'n?"

"I want that little boat unloaded, all the supplies on her moved up here. Then cut it lose and then I want every ounce of canvas open we can manage. All the speed we can get we need now. Once that's done, run out the sweeps. We need to get out of sight of the _Achelous_." Jack's words were firm and Gibbs gave another, "Aye, Cap'n!" this time with a wry smile. "Glad teh have yeh back Cap'n!"

"Thank you, Gibbs," Jack gives him an appreciate nod accompanied by another pleased smile.

Then Gibbs immediately bounds off and I smile a little to see the bounce in his step. His shouting orders fades into the noise of the crew jumping into action, climbing the ratlines to the rigging, jumping down to haul things from the _Pretty Pearl_ onto the _Black Pearl_. Blankets and food, spare rope, all of it. The boat is cut free and canvas drops and catches the wind with loud snapping noises and I feel the ship pick up speed.

It doesn't take long for the crew to set everything in order, then they all but a few begin filing down into the hatches. "What did he mean by 'sweeps'?" I ask my father who's still got one arm loosely around my shoulders.

"This ship has oars," he says, "I'm assuming that's it."

Sure enough, I hear wood grating and I walk over to the rail to peer over. Rows of small hatches have opened and in unison long oars slide out of the belly of the ship and dip into the water, then swing. The wind picks up, moving faster past us as the ship gains speed.

"My God," I whisper. Then I laugh, feeling fresh hope swell within my breast that we may actually be able to out run Dillon and the _Achelous_, a ship which had already proved to be fast. I can just hear Dillon cursing his luck now, and I laugh. I actually laugh.

I look up at my father and find him giving me an odd look. My face sobers to a little smile and he says, "We should talk, Melody."

I nod, "Yes." I can't say more. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. I'd gotten very little out of Jack about my father, but when he'd come up at all Jack had been edgy and his eyes had been like hot iron. I can't begin to comprehend how I'm going to explain everything to my father.

"Somewhere private," Kevin says and he takes my hand in his long fingers, leading me across the deck to the galley. Big surprise.

Not.

Once inside he lets go of my hand and I sit on the bench at the galley table, my back to it. He turns around after closing the door and he stops, giving me a little smile. He just stares at me for a moment before he moves to sit on the bench across the table from me, so I turn and lift my feet over the bench to set them on the floor on the other side so I can face him.

My teeth seem to have glued themselves together so I wait, wringing my fingers under the table where he can't see, and waiting for him to break the silence.

Finally he does, "I was so worried about you, Melody."

I smile at him, though I'm sure it doesn't reach my eyes because I feel no humor in it. "I'm alright, really," I say, feeling like I'm partly lying. Not that he'll buy that I'm telling the truth at all anyway.

"You're fine?" He sounds, of course, skeptical, and unimpressed. "Don't toy with me girl," he says firmly. "Tell the truth."

I sigh and look him in the eyes. "Daddy, I admit, I very well could be falling apart right now. But in many ways I was very lucky. There are things that I saw and experienced that I'm not ready to talk about right now, things that I'm sure will hit me and scare the hell out of me all over again with time. But in general, considering everything, I'm alright." I finish more softly than I'd begun and hope he'll take it at that. He stares at me, his ice-blue eyes studying, brow creased with worry.

"I was told that Jack," he nearly spits the name, "just gave you to that captain. After he took your necklace."

I sigh, and nod. "You were told correctly."

His teeth grind and he asks, "Were you hurt, on the other ship?" I can tell he's saving the questions he really wants to ask for later. He's angry with Jack. Very angry. Not that I blame him. . . so was I. I still am to an extent, but I can't much bring myself to feel it any more.

"No, not really. I was afraid I would be, and they weren't gentle by any means. I wasn't hurt though, just cold and I didn't get much to eat."

His fingers clench into fists and I want to be anywhere but here. I love him dearly, but he's a hard man when he's upset, and I'm dreading the turn I know this conversation is going to take. He's going to be furious . . . with me, for defending Jack.

I already know I'm going to defend him. . .

I've lost my mind.

"Damn him," he mutters and I jump out of my thoughts, startled. "How did you even end up on this ship? Why?"

I swallow hard. Oh boy. Here we go.

"Um . . . well. I was taking . . . a walk. And I tripped and hit my head." Here we go again. Every time I think on this I realize how ridiculous it was all over again. It was some twisted turn of fate. Fate must have been very, very, horridly bored! To throw me off my feet and then send Captain Jack Sparrow around the corner to find me! Now, I'm here, with a ridiculous list of adventures behind me and more to come, for sure!

Ridiculous.

I continue, "I was unconscious in an alley, early in the morning. Jack found me and brought me aboard. Which might have been good . . . any number of horrible disgusting people could have found me in that port."

I stop when I realize the look my father is giving me is almost disgusted. I snap my mouth shut and clear my throat, realizing that I'd made Jack sound like a saint in comparison to anyone else in Tortuga.

"And then he left port? With you still aboard."

"Yes."

"Did you have a choice in this?"

"Well," I feel like I'm five again and I just stole a cookie and I find I'm getting angry at him. I sigh. "No, I did not. I was still unconscious when he made that decision."

"And then you got forked over to worse pirates, by him, and you're defending him?" He looks like he wants to crush something.

I meet his gaze evenly and sit up straighter, not feeling at all like my stance makes it look like I feel. I must look ridiculous, trying to look confident and stony when my hair hasn't been combed in several weeks, I haven't bathed in several weeks save for a few dips in the ocean (which just leaves one rather gritty), my clothes don't fit me properly.

Regardless, I do it, I sit up straighter and square my shoulders saying, "Yes, I'm defending him."

"Why?!" His eyes look like frigid winter storm, his face like it's carved from stone.

I glare at him. I've dealt with his tempers before.

"It's complicated," I say with confidence. It is the absolute truth. My feelings for Jack are so complicated it's like a ball of yarn that's been strung around a room, looped around all the furniture, and through itself over and over again. It could take a while, a very long while in this case, to untangle the mess.

His brows furrow and his lips purse, the skepticism in his expression mounting. He does another long study of my face and I do my best not to shift in my seat, meeting his gaze the best I can. "Oh good Lord," he breathes after a while, sagging a little. "You're in—"

"Don't say it," I hold up my hand and cut him off.

He opens his mouth again and I make a noise and stand a little. "No! Do not say it." I sit back down and glare at him quickly before I glare at the wall. I look back at him and smooth my face some. "First off, yes. I might be. But that doesn't mean it's going to last. I've done a lot of talking to him the last two days on that little boat and it's not been easy. I believe he cares for me too. I know you sent him after me, but he did get me out. Despite the fact that Dillon caught us and . . . Jack got the worst of that, though luckily it didn't end up being much. But he got us out of there, and I saw . . . his other side." I didn't want to admit to my father that Jack's more human side was darker than the crazy side, and it scared me a great deal. Still . . . that look he gave me . . .

I love him.

"He's got a good heart," I say to finish.

The look my father is giving me is so flat and so unimpressed that I want to growl. He opens his mouth but I make up my mind before he speaks and I stand quickly, saying, "No. I don't expect you to understand, because I don't understand. But I know how I feel, and I know what my heart is telling me to do, and I've reasoned it out all a great deal, and I know that for now I have to stick to him, to this. I told him that I'm not going to forgive him yet, and I'm not going to make this easy for him. God knows I'm angry at him, and I don't trust him. But I'm going to try to let this heal, because I need to understand this before I decide if I should stay or walk away. I spoke to him, and he knows where my boundaries are. I will not have you telling me what I can and cannot do. I'm glad you're here, daddy. I'm glad you came, I'm so glad to see you. But I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm twenty-five years old and I can make my own decisions. I promise, I've learned my lesson and I'll be more careful now. I swear I will."

His eyebrows have climbed up quite a ways. He's stunned. And that is the only sign of it. His eyebrows rose, on an otherwise smooth as a slab face. I resist smiling. It is very hard to surprise my father.

He finally just nods and I sigh, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"I'm not leaving," he says, firmly.

I nod. "Alright, that's fine with me."

He stands too and comes around the table, opening his arms. He's resigned himself. I move to him and hug him, grateful he's here, and that he's the kind of man that when told reason's that make sense, he'll let me fly on my own.

His staying to watch me though isn't a shock. I doubt Jack will be pleased, but then, who can blame him?

"I love you, daddy," I whisper.

"I love you too, Melody girl." His voice has softened, and I feel better.

I pull back and look down at myself, "Um . . . I need to get cleaned up or I'm going to make myself sick by own presence."

He chuckles and I feel still easier inside to hear him laugh.

"Go on then."

I stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, then turn and leave the galley, heading across the deck toward Jack's cabin. Halfway across the deck I stop, looking around. It's odd, to be standing on the Pearl again.

Strangely the first word that comes to my head is 'home.'

I shake it off and glance around, to find Jack absent, not in sight.

I take another step and keep going, opening the door to the cabin. I step in and find him bent over the log book, brows furrowed in concentration. He looks up when the door closes and I ask, "What is it?"

"Reading what Ana recorded after I left," he says simply. I watch him for a minute and realize he's doing his best to not look at me, to ignore me. And he appears rather closed.

I sigh.

Men.

He's all nervous now because we're at an awkward place with each other and he doesn't want to talk about it. I'll give him a day. It'll probably just make him crazier anyways.

"Um, Jack. I need a bath. And a hair brush." I do not pose my requests as a question. I am in dire need of both. God knows it's going to take me hours to get my snarled hair smooth. And I know I do not smell good. At all.

Come to think of it neither does he.

But that's beside the point.

He looks up and actually leans back in his chair to really look at me. After a minute his face splits in a smile. "Yes, you certainly do."

I raise an eyebrow and he chuckles. "Well, I can't really get you a bath love, we have a little tub in here, but it's rather small and warm water might be hard to come by."

"So, what exactly can you provide me with Jack? I just need to feel better than I do now. For heaven's sake, I'm disgusting."

"I wouldn't go that far," he says, coming around his desk to look me up and down. "You're still quite lovely. But you do indeed need a cleanup." I glare at him again and chuckles low in his throat. "I can give you a small tub of water, only sort of warm though, and some soap and a brush."

"That will be fine," I say.

He just stands there.

"Now would be good," I glower at him.

"You're not the captain. You can have a bath when I say you can have a bath." He's got this rather frightening glint in his eyes.

I plant my hands on my hips and say, "Jack Sparrow, I am dirty and it's making me miserable. If you're going to let me clean up, then please do so now. Or I will sleep in your bed tonight and I will make your pretty red sheets a might mess."

He laughs, curse him. "I sleep in my bed, love. That's hardly a threat."

"Jack, as dirty as you are, you're not this bad that I've seen."

He shrugs, "Point taken." He walks to the door and opens it, then he shouts, "Calvin!"

"Aye sir?" I hear faintly.

"Hot water, two buckets, need a bath in here."

"Yessir!"

Jack shuts the door and turns to me with a smirk as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Thank you," I say, relaxing my stance a little.

"You're welcome, my lady," he bows ridiculously low and I roll my eyes. Then I giggle. This in turn makes me blush. Every stupid thing he does makes me giddy. Ugh!

When he straightens he's still smirking, this time knowingly.

"What?" I ask, feeling self conscious. Especially with how awful I look. Before now we'd always been in mortal peril. It didn't matter.

Now it mattered.

Ridiculous.

"You're . . ." his smirk falters just a little, but those dark eyes of his are still glittering with . . .something I can't put my finger on. But I feel my face flush further and my heart start to flutter. He doesn't finish, as the door suddenly swings inward and Jack jumps, barely getting out of the way before it smacks him and sends him toppling. He still staggars and almost falls.

"Bloody hell!" Jack shouts, and Calvin just stands there, holding the bucket of water he's got in one hand.

"Captain, don't stand in front of doors," the boy laughs and Jack shoots him a glare. But then he chuckles too, grudgingly.

"Touché," he mutters and Calvin nods, then looks around.

"Um?" The boy gives his captain a look and asks, "Where's the tub?"

Jack pulls back a curtain by the door and drags a round wooden tub out from behind it. It's only about three feet in diameter, but it's better than nothing and I find I'm hard pressed to keep from jumping up and down. Jack lays the tub flat and Calvin dumps the bucket of water in and retreats from the room again.

Jack goes back over to his desk and sits down and I sit in the arm chair to wait. When I glance over at him, he's still got that stupid smirk on his face. I wonder if he's up to something. Before I can even form a question to start hedging he stands up and, striding into his bedroom. I slump in my seat and give the door a sharp look.

I hear rummaging and Jack muttering to himself then he comes back in and stands in front of me. He puts a bar of soap in my hand and a hair brush.

"Oh," I say. "Thank you."

"It's the very least I can do. I mean really," he sounds a little self recriminating, but I don't speak. He goes back to his desk as Calvin comes in and dumps another bucketful of water into the tub. I smell the soap and am surprised it smells flowery.

"Jack, why do you have flowery smelling soap?" I press my lips together to keep from laughing.

He looks up; eyes wide, lips pressed together, his head sort of swaying on his neck, back then forward. Insane again.

"Ah, because when one is stealing goods one doesn't have time to pick what they smell like."

I give him a flat look, and then ask, "So you do, do pirate-y things after all? You steal floral soaps."

The look he gives me back is as flat as mine, if not more so. "We raided a very small merchant ship several months before I . . . found you. It was mostly soap, but there were several bolts of silk and lots of colored yarn. It was sort of a disappointment; it all fetched a fair price in port."

I snort. "And you kept some of the flowery scented bars, eh?"

He smirks at me. "Don't complain Melly, or I'll take that flowery soap away and make you scrub yourself without it."

"No," I hold the soap closer to me.

He nods, in a self satisfied way, and Calvin comes back in with more water. Jack bends back over his log book to read more and Calvin comes in several more times. I'm pleased to see that the last few buckets of water are steaming hot.

"There t'is!" Calvin says with the last bucket. "Ready now. I got more in a basin to clean the dirt off before yeh get in the tub."

"Don't tell me," Jack says, waving a hand toward me absentmindedly, his eyes not lifting from the page he's scanning. "Tell her. S'her bath."

Calvin turns on his heel, rather magnificently, much like Jack usually does. "Oh! Weh'll. There it is!"

I smile at him. "Thank you, Calvin."

He nods, a little bow almost. "I'll be righ' back wiv the rest of the wah'ter." Then he scampers from the room.

I stand up and move toward the tub. "Do you have a towel, Jack?"

He looks up and shakes his head. "Just the sun, love."

I sigh. "Alright."

Calvin comes back in with a porcelain basin of water, this too steaming. "Thank you, Calvin." He smiles at me, looks sideways at Jack, then goes again.

I turn then to find Jack still mesmerized by his bookwork. "Jack," I say in a prodding tone. He looks up with big questioning eyes, innocent eyes.

I glare at him. "May I have some privacy, Captain?"

"Love, you saw me naked. Tis only fair," he leans back as he speaks, rather slowly, his expression changing to that of what I assume is supposed to be a smolder. His lips are curling slowly around his words again. He puts his feet up on the desk, crossing one ankle slowly over the other.

For a moment I just stare at him, then I glare at him after I shut my mouth. "Jack, it's not my fault you forgot to grab a pair of breeches before you went swimming. I honestly would have rather not. . . seen you . . ." My face is so hot I feel like I could cook a steak on it.

He pouts, that childish expression that I do so despise! "Am I that hideous?"

My eyes go wide again and I blurt, "No, of course not! You're very. . . I just . . . oh . . . No. But, you're not going to watch me bathe!"

He chuckles at my expression. "I think I shall. You can't make me leave."

I lean my weight on one hip and fold my arms, hair brush in one hand, soap in the other. "My father is on this ship, Jack Sparrow. And I _will_ go get him."

He sighs, "Unfair love. Completely unfair."

I want to snap that it is fair, that he could never repay me for what he did, but I keep my mouth shut, tapping my foot impatiently.

He stands, reluctantly, and he takes his sweet time gathering his hat and putting on his head. He very much swaggers to the door, a bit of an arrogant bounce in his step. "Someday, Melly, we'll be bathing in the same tub."

I roll my eyes and say, "We already are, since you've bathed in this I'm sure. . .if rarely, and now I'm bathing in it."

With his hand on the handle he leans forward, "No, I mean at the same time love."

I turn and poise to throw the hair brush at his head, but he jumps and slips out of the door, laughing rather hysterically as he does. The door closes and I nearly leap in my haste to get to it and turn the lock. Once that's done I lean against it and sigh with relief.

Bathing in the same tub with him! Indeed! If ever, it certainly wouldn't be this one! It's tiny! We'd need a bigger one! Not that _that_ would ever happen anyway. I said this relationship was going to go very slow, and it's not likely we'll end up permanent anyway. Surely not.

In the same tub indeed!

But there is a smile creeping onto my face, and I have to ruin my entire thought process, my entire defense! . . . by giggling.

**_Dear Fabulous Readers,_**  
**_I am so sorry to inform you that I am discontinuing this fic._**  
**_I started writing this when I was sixteen years old. That was a REALLY long time ago! I am now twenty-four! It is crazy how much has happened and how much time flies!_**  
**_So here is the deal. Jack and Melody's story is actually something I really deeply want to write. It's a story that has changed and developed and gotten better over the years. It's actually really close to me. I love them!_**  
**_I'm very busy. I'm writing the first book of an original trilogy, I'm an artist and painting a whole lot! I have commissions that have deadlines (got to make income!) and I have family, friends and a horse to worry about._**  
**_I have however decided I want to get this story into production. So during my free time I will be working on some outlining and soon I shall start writing. It will likely be a slow process. _**  
**_Thank you to all of you who have followed this story for so long. I really hope you can forgive me for this! And I hope you enjoy the new one, the story as it's really supposed to be!_**  
**_It will largely have the same characters and a similar plot. There will be some major changes though. But it's better, I promise!_**  
**_Thanks everyone!_**

**_Captain Crimson_**

**_PS, the first chapter is going up NOW! Please read Mirrors Edge! Thanks again my friends! _**


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